THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


13  *  * 


lA.  n\  o^U^£^U^^Zy~- 


STUDIES  IN  HONOR  OF 
A.  MARSHALL  ELLIOTT 


IN  TWO   VOLUMES 


Volume   I 


BALTIMOBK 
THE    JOHNS    HOPKINS     PRESS 


PARIS 
H.    CHAMPION 


LEIPZIG 
O.    HABBASSOWITZ 


PRESS  OF 
J.  H.  FURST   CO. 
8 ALTO. 


The  Following  Students  of  Professor  Elliott 
offer  this  book  in  grateful  appreciation 


T.   G.   Ahbens 

E.  C.  Armstrong 
H.  D.  Austin 

A.  H.  Baxter 

P.  S.  Blondheim 

F.  A.  Blossom 

B.  L.  Bowen 

G.  G.  Brow  nell 
J.   D.  Bruner 
M.  P.  Brush 

D.  L.  Buffum 
J.  A.  Child 

F.  L.  Critchlow 
A.  E.  Curdt 

E.  P.  Dargan 

F.  De  Haan 

D.  B.  Easter 

E.  A.  Fay 

J.  A.  Fontaine 

E.  J.  Fortier 
P.  J.  Frein 

F.  L.  Frost 
Samuel  Garner 

C.  F.  Gloth 
W.  E.  Gould 
P.  W.  Harry 

J.  A.  Haughton 

H.  C.  G.  von  Jagemann 

S.  S.  Janney 

T.  A.  Jenkins 

O.  M.  Johnston 


A.  D.  Jones 
G.  C.  Keidel 
A.   F.   Kuersteiner 
H.  C.  Lancaster 
G.  G.  Laubscher 
C.  C.  Marden 
J.  F.  Mason 
C.  E.  Mathews 
J.  E.  Matzke 
A.  J.  Morrison 
T.  A.  E.  Moseley 
W.  A.  Nitze 
Phillip  Ogden 
K.  S.  Patton 
W.  T.  Peirce 
W.  H.  Perkins 
R.  E.  Phillips 
J.  E.  Shaw 
J.  S.  Shefloe 

E.  H.  Sirich 
G.  E.  Snavely 
J.  A.  Sprenger 
W.  A.  Stowell 
H.  P.  Thieme 
H.  A.  Todd 
Oliver  Towles 

F.  M.  Warren 
K.  E.  Weston 
George  Whitelock 
J.  R.  Wightman 
E.  H.  Wilkins 


650444 


There  have  been  collected  in  the  accompanying  volume  a 
set  of  studies  prepared  by  present  or  former  members  of 
the  department  of  Eomance  Languages  in  the  Johns  Hopkins 
University  and  recent  lecturers  before  that  department. 
These  studies  were  planned  to  celebrate  the  completion  of 
Professor  Elliott's  thirty-fifth  year  of  service  in  the  University, 
and  were  to  be  offered  to  him  as  a  mark  of  his  pupils' 
esteem  for  their  teacher  and  an  evidence  of  the  profit  they 
had  derived  from  his  scholarly  example.  We  would  not  have 
his  death  affect  our  purpose.  On  realizing  the  gravity  of  his 
disease,  we  told  him  of  our  desire,  and  afterwards  kept  him 
informed  of  the  steps  taken  to  accomplish  it.  And  whatever 
misgivings  we  may  have  had,  he  never  lost  confidence  in  the 
success  of  the  undertaking.  So  we  feel  that  his  personality 
has  guided  us  from  beginning  to  end.  He  did  not  look  upon 
our  work  as  a  memorial  of  a  career  that  is  finished,  nor  do  we. 
That  memorial  is  to  be  found  elsewhere,  closely  bound  up 
with  the  place  where  he  labored.  These  pages  are  an  offering 
in  his  honor,  a  tribute  to  his  intellectual  activity,  and  a  witness 
which  we  bring,  in  behalf  of  ourselves  and  our  comrade  who 
went  before  him,  to  the  lasting  influence  of  his  ideals  of 
instruction  and  investigation — an  influence  which  it  will  be 
our  privilege,  we  hope,  to  carry  forward  in  a  circle  that  ever 
widens. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


VOLUME    I 


Abmstbong,  E.  C.  (Johns  Hopkins  University),  The  French 
Shifts  in  Adjective  Position  and  their  English  Equiv- 
alents          251-274 

Austin,  H.  D.    (University  of  Michigan),  The  Origin  and 

Greek  Versions  of  the  Strange-Feathers  Fable 305-327       S 

BiSdier,  J.  ( University  of  Paris ) ,  La  Legende  des  "  En- 
fances "  de  Charlemagne  et  l'Histoire  de  Charles 
Martel     81-107 

Blondheim,   D.    S.    (University   of  Illinois),   Etymological 

Notes   (Fr.  cadastre,  Span,  and  Port,  cerdo,  cerda)  .  .     237-250 

Bowex,    B.    L.     (Ohio    State    University),    The    Place    of 

Chateaubriand  as  a  Critic  of  Italian  Literature.  .  .  .      187-193 

Bbush,  M.  P.,  Editor    (Johns  Hopkins  University),  Esopo  ^ 

Zuccarino    375-450 

Buffum,  D.  L.    (Princeton   University),  The  Songs  of   the 

Roman  de  la  Violette 129-157 


Cubdy,  A.  E.   (Yale  University) ,  The  Versions  of  the  Fable 

of   the   Peacock   and   Juno 329-346 

Dabgax,  E.   P.    (University  of  California),  The  Poetry  of 

Sully-Prudhomme    195-208 

Jexkixs,  T.  A.,  Editor  (University  of  Chicago),  Le  Contenz 

dou  Monde,  by   Renaud  d'Andon 53-79 

Keidel.   G.    C.    (Johns   Hopkins    University),   Problems   in 

Medieval    Fable    Literature 281-303 

Laxcasteb,  H.  C.  (Amherst  College),  A  Classic  French 
Tragedy  based  on  an  Anecdote  told  of  Charles  the 
Bold     : 159-174 

Matzke,  J.  E.  (Stanford  University) ,  The  Roman  du  Chate- 

lain  de  Couci  and  Fauchet's  Chronique 1-18 


r 


Nitze.  VV.  A.    (University  of  Chicago),  The  Castle  of  the 

Grail — an   Irish   Analogue 19-51" 

>navely,  G.  E.,  Editor  (Allegheny  College),  The  Ysopet  of 

Jehan  de  Vignay 347-374 

Stowell,  W.  A.  (Amherst  College),  Notes  on  the  Etymology 

of    bachelier 225-236 

Terrachek,  A.  (Johns  Hopkins  University),  Le  Pluriel  du 
D^monstratif  dans  les  Parlers  populaires  de  l'Angou- 
mois    (avec  carte) 275-280 

Thieme,  H.  P.    (University  of  Michigan),  Notes  on  Victor 

Hugo's    Versification 209-224 

Todd,  H.  A.,  Editor  (Columbia  University),  An  Unpublished 
Fourteenth  Century  Invocation  to  Mary  Magdalen: 
II  est  bien  temps  que  je  m'avise 109-128 

Warren,  F.  M.  (Yale  University) ,  French  Classical  Drama 

and   the   Comeclie   Larmoyante 175-185 


/ 


THE  ROMAN  DU  CHATELAIN  DE  COUCI  AND 
FAUCHET'S  CHRONIQUE 

BY 

John  E.  Matzke 


In  the  long  list  of  titles  x  constituting  what  is  commonly 
known  as  the  Cycle  of  the  Eaten  Heart  two  groups  stand 
out  distinctly.  In  the  one  the  hero  is  slain  by  the  husband 
of  the  lady  whose  love  he  has  won,  and  it  is  the  husband 
who  cuts  the  heart  from  his  victim's  body.  In  the  other 
group  the  hero,  dying  at  a  distance  from  his  lady,  commands 
his  servant  to  carry  his  heart  after  his  death  to  his  lady  as 
proof  of  his  fidelity,  and  when  the  messenger  arrives  with 
his  relic  near  the  lady's  castle,  he  meets  with  the  husband  and 
is  forced  by  him  to  surrender  the  box  which  contains  the 
hero's  heart. 

In  the  majority  of  the  texts  of  either  group  the  hero  is 
a  knight,  but  there  is  a  distinct  line  of  tradition  appearing 
in  both  by  which  the  cruel  adventure  is  attributed  to  a  poet. 
The  matter  would  be  simple  if  it  could  be  shown  clearly  that 
the  Provencal  biography  of  the  troubadour  Guillem  de  Cabe- 
staing,  the  oldest  of  the  texts  showing  this  feature,  were  the 
source  of  this  variation.  But  this  view  of  the  question  has 
so  far  met  with  scant  favor.  The  grouping  of  the  texts 
involved  is  fraught  with  great  difficulty,  and  consensus  of 
-opinion  with  reference  to  this  relation  has  not  yet  been 
reached.     This  side  of  the  problem  I  intend  to  discuss  at 

'See  Patzig,  Zur  Geschichte  der  Uerzmare,  Berlin,  1891,  pp.  6-8; 
and  Ahlstrom,  Studier  i  den  Fornfranska  Lais-Litteraturen,  Upsala, 
1892,  pp.  127-129. 

1]  1 


MATZKE 


[» 


length  at  some  future  date  in  a  larger  study  of  the  '  Legend 
of  the  Eaten  Heart/  *  The  point  which  I  have  selected 
for  examination  here  is  concerned  in  the  first  place  with  the 
source  and  composition  of  the  Roman  du  Chatelain  de  Couci, 
the  representative  text  of  the  second  group  and  at  the  same 
time  the  foremost  literary  member  of  the  whole  cycle.  But 
in  order  to  make  this  discussion  clear  it  will  be  necessary 
at  least  to  outline  the  claims  of  the  three  scholars  who  have 
given  consideration  to  the  problem. 

We  may  disregard  here  the  Indian  story  published  by 
Swynnerton  in  the  Folklore  Journal,  Vol.  I,  1883.  The 
versions  that  concern  us  more  directly  are  the  Biography  of 
Guillem  de  Cabestaing2  and  Boccaccio's  story  of  Messer 
Guiglielmo  Bossiglione  e  Messer  Guiglielmo  Guardastagno.3 
The  question  is  what  relation  these  two  stories  hold  to  the 
French  roman  d'aventure.  Gaston  Paris  believed4  that  a 
lost  Provengal  version  was  the  source  of  both  the  Biography 
and  the  Italian  story,  and  that  from  this  lost  version  had 
sprung  also  a  French  version  which  in  turn  became  the  source 
of  the  Chatelain  de  Couci  and  several  other  texts  related  to 
it.  Patzig 5  rejected  this  filiation  and  tried  to  prove  that 
the  Provengal  Biography  was  Boccaccio's  direct  source,  and 
that  the  French  poem  also  derives  from  it,  but  that  at  least 
two  intermediate  forms  of  the  story  which  have  disappeared 
are  necessary  to  explain  the  Old  French  poem  and  its  closest 
congeners.  Ahlstrom,6  finally,  derived  the  whole  tradition  in 
its  literary  form  from  the  Guirun  lay,  sung  by  Isolt,  according 
to  the  Thomas  version.7  Thru  lost  intermediate  stages,  but 
along  independent  lines,  this  story  on  the  one  hand  became 

*  See  editor's  note,  infra,  p.  16. 

I  See  Mahn,  Biographieen  der  Troubadours,  2d.  ed.,  pp.  3  33.;  and 
also   Bartsch,   Chrestomathie   provencale,   cols.   231-234. 

*  Decamerone   iv,   9. 

4  Romania  vm,  pp.  343-373,  and  xn,  pp.  359-363. 

II  Op.  cit.,  p.  21.  *L.  c. 

*  See  B£dier,  Roman  de  Tristan,  1,  p.  295. 


3]  THE    CHATELAIN    DE    CODCI  3 

the  Biography  from  which  Boccaccio  drew  his  material,  and 
on  the  other  gave  the  version  found  in  the  roman  d'aventure. 

The  Roman  du  Chatelain  de  Couci  is  rather  inaccessible  in 
its  complete  form,  the  only  existing  edition  being  that  pub- 
lished by  Crapelet  in  1829. 8  The  contents  of  the  poem  have, 
however,  become  familiar  to  students  of  medieval  literature 
thru  an  article  by  Gaston  Paris,9  and  more  recently  thru  the 
long  digest  of  the  story  by  Langlois. 10  We  may  content 
ourselves  therefore  with  a  brief  outline. 

The  hero  is  Renaut,  Chatelain  de  Couci,  the  heroine  is 
called  la  dame  de  Faiel.  Rejected  at  first,  the  chatelain 
decides  to  win  the  love  of  his  fair  lady  thru  the  fame  that  will 
cling  to  his  name  from  evidences  of  eminence  in  the  quali- 
fications of  knighthood.  The  poem  thus  describes  his  visits 
to  the  castle  of  Faiel,  recites  tournaments  in  which  he  wins 
renown,  and  tells  the  hero's  gradual  conquest  of  his  lady's 
heart.  When  she  finally  grants  him  her  love,  the  visits  are 
arranged  with  the  greatest  secrecy,  and  every  precaution  is 
taken  to  make  it  appear  that  not  the  lady  of  Faiel,  but  Yzabel, 
her  maid,  is  the  object  of  the  chatelain's  love.  Another  lady 
falls  in  love  with  him.  When  her  advances  are  disdained, 
she  suspects  and  discovers  the  secret,  and  informs  the  husband, 
who  conceals  himself  and  thus  is  able  to  interrupt  one  of  these 
interviews.  Yzabel  now  sacrifices  her  own  reputation  for  that 
of  her  mistress.  Outwitted  but  not  convinced,  the  husband 
guards  the  lady  carefully.  Yzabel  is  sent  away  and  further 
meetings  of  the  lady  of  Faiel  with  the  chatelain  are  made 
impossible. 

Now  follows  a  series  of  stealthy  visits  in  which  Gobert,  a 
faithful  squire  of  the  chatelain,  who  is  able  to  play  a  double 

'  L'Histoire  du  Chatelain  de  Coucy  et  de  la  Dame  de  Fayel.  I 
have  in  preparation  a  new  edition  of  the  poem  which  I  hope  to 
finish  in  the  near  future. 

'  Ro.  vin,  pp.  343-373;   see  also  Hist,  litt.,  xxvin,  pp.  352-390. 

10  La  8oci6t6  fran^aise  au  XI He  siecle,  Paris,  1904,  pp.  186-221. 


4  MATZKE  [4 

role,  being  apparently  the  husband's  spy,  renders  signal  aid 
in  the  intrigue.  The  chatelain  first  takes  cruel  revenge  upon 
the  jealous  lady  who  had  betrayed  his  secret.  Then  during 
an  absence  of  the  husband,  Gobert  brings  him  to  the  castle  of 
Faiel  under  the  disguise  of  a  knight  wounded  in  a  tourna- 
ment. This  is  followed  by  a  pilgrimage  to  Saint-Maur-des- 
Fosses,  which  the  lady  is  forced  to  undertake  in  the  company 
of  her  husband.  Passing  thru  a  ford  before  a  mill,  she  lets 
herself  fall  into  the  water  and  then  enters  the  mill  where  the 
chatelain  is  waiting  for  her,  while  a  servant  is  sent  to  fetch 
dry  clothing. 

The  husband,  thoroly  aroused,  now  announces  his  inten- 
tion to  join  the  crusade  and  take  his  wife  along,  fully  confi- 
dent that  the  chatelain  would  be  informed  of  this  plan  and 
take  the  cross  at  the  same  time.  Soon  afterwards  the 
chatelain  comes  to  the  castle  disguised  as  a  traveling 
merchant.  He  is  told  of  the  husband's  decision,  and  in 
consequence  he  goes  to  England  and  joins  the  army  of 
Eichard.  So  soon,  however,  as  the  husband  learns  that  his 
ruse  has  been  successful,  he  refuses  to  take  the  cross. 

The  chatelain  now  comes  to  the  castle,  disguised  as  a 
blind  beggar,  to  say  farewell,  and  the  lady  gives  him  a 
braid  of  her  hair  as  a  keepsake,  to  remind  him  of  her  lo^e 
on  the  journey  beyond  the  sea. 

These  incidents  are  followed  by  the  account  of  the  crusade 
and  the  chatelain's  death.  After  an  absence  of  two  years, 
he  is  wounded  during  a  battle  by  a  poisoned  arrow.  The 
wound  does  not  heal,  and,  desirous  of  seeing  his  lady  again, 
he  embarks  to  return  to  France.  During  the  journey  he 
grows  worse,  and,  feeling  death  approaching,  he  commands 
Gobert  to  cut  his  heart  from  his  body  after  his  death,  and 
to  carry  it  in  a  box  to  the  lady  of  Faiel,  together  with  a 
letter  which  he  dictates  to  a  clerc  and  the  braid  of  hair. 
Then  he  dies  and  is  buried  at  Brindisi. 

The  squire  continues  the  journey.  As  he  approaches  the 
castle    he    meets    the   husband,    who    at   once    suspects    his 


5]  THE    CHATELAIN    DE    COUCI  5 

mission.  He  draws  from  Gobert  the  news  of  the  chatelain's 
death,  learns  the  contents  of  the  box,  takes  it  from  him,  and 
drives  him  away.  Then  he  returns  to  the  castle  and  com- 
mands his  cook  to  prepare  the  heart  for  his  lady's  dinner. 
She  lauds  the  taste  of  the  dish,  is  told  its  nature,  and  is 
shown  the  box  with  the  braid  of  hair  and  the  letter.  Saying 
that  she  will  touch  no  other  food  after  such  a  delicious 
meal,  she  swoons  and  dies. 

Fearful  of  the  consequences  of  his  action,  the  husband 
causes  her  to  be  buried  with  honors,  but  the  lady's  family 
suspects  him  of  having  caused  her  death,  and  he  is  forced  to 
leave  the  country.  He  goes  to  the  Holy  Land,  whence  he 
returns  after  a  long  interval,  and  soon  thereafter  dies. 

A  story  closely  similar  in  form  was  printed  by  Fauchet,11 
who  drew  his  version  from  a  Chronique  in  his  possession, 
now  the  property  of  the  Bibliotlieque  Nationale.12  It  was 
Leopold  Delisle  who  directed  attention  to  this  fact  in  1879 
in  a  communication  read  before  the  Academie  des  Inscrip- 
tions.13    I  print  this  version,  drawn  anew  from  the  manu- 

11  Recueil  de  Vorigine  de  la  langue  et  poe~sie  francoise,  Paris,  1581, 
pp.  124-128. 

"MS.  fr.  5003,  fos.  257  v.  to  258  v. 

13  See  the  Comptes-rendus  des  stances  de  I'Acade'mie  des  Inscrip- 
tions, 1879,  p.  199,  and  a  note  by  Gaston  Paris  in  Ro.  viii,  p.  633. 
The  ms.  is  described  in  the  Catalogue  des  mss.  fr.  de  la  Bibl.  Nat. 
(Paris,  1895)  iv,  p.  468,  as  follows:  Chronique  de  France  allant 
jusqu'au  regne  de  Charles  VI  (1380).  L'auteur  a  fait  beaucoup 
d'emprunts  aux  anciens  romans  francais.  Le  commencement  manque 
.  .  .  .  Ce  ms.  a  appartenu  au  president  Fauchet,  qui  y  a  mis  de 
nombreuses  notes  marginales.  On  lit  en  effet  au  fol.  1  et  au  fol.  386 
la  note  suivante :  "  A  Claude  Fauchet  conseiller  du  roy,  president 
en  la  cour  des  monnoies."  Une  main  posterieure  a  ajoute'  (fol.  386)  : 
"  II  y  a  parmi  les  mss.  de  Me.  Daguesseau,  chancelier  de  France,  une 
copie  de  cette  chronique  faite  vers  l'an  1550."  Au  fol.  381  sont 
plusieurs  proverbes.  Papier  xv  s.  ...  It  is  to  the  point  to  em- 
phasize here  the  fact  that  the  marginal  notes  to  be  spoken  of  later 
are  not  the  work  of  Fauchet,  but  were  written  by  this  unknown 
hand,  apparently  in  the  eighteenth  century. 


6  MATZKE  [6 

script,  here  in  full  both  because  of  its  importance,  and  because 
of  the  rarity  and  inaccessibility  of  Fauchet's  work.  It  has 
been  copied  several  times  from  the  book  in  question,  the  last 
time,  so  far  as  I  know,  by  F.  Michel.14 

[f.  257  v.]  Ou  temps  que  le  roy  Philippe  regnoit  et  le  roy 
Richart  d'Angleterre  vivoit  il  avoit  en  Vermendois  ung  aultre 
moult  gentil  gallart  preux  chevalier  en  armes  qui  s'apeloit 
Eegnault  de  Coucy,  et  estoit  chastelain  de  Coucy.  Ce  che- 
valier fut  moult  amoureux  d'unne  dame  du  pays  qui  estoit 
femme  du  seigneur  de  Faiel.  Moult  orent  de  paine  et  travail 
pour  leurs  amours,  ce  chastelain  de  Coucy  et  la  dame  de  Faiel 
si  comme  l'istoire,  le  raconte  qui  parle  de  leur  vie  dont  il 
y  a  Romant  propre.  Or  advint  que  quant  les  voyages  d'oultre- 
mer  se  firent,  dont  il  est  parle  cy  dessus,  que  les  roys  de 
France  et  d'Angleterre  y  furent,  le  chastelain  de  Coucy  y 
fut  pour  ce  qu'il  exercitoit  voulentiers  les  armes.  La  dame 
de  Faiel,  quant  elle  sceut  qu'il  s'en  devoit  aler,  fist  ung  las 
de  soye  moult  bel  et  bien  fait,  et  y  avoit  de  ses  cheveux 
ouvrez  parmi  la  soye  dont  l'euvre  sembloit  moult  belle  et 
riche,  dont  il  lyoit  ung  bourrelet  moult  riche  par  dessus  son 
heaulme  et  avoit  loinz  pendans  par  derriere  a  gros  boutons 
de  perles.  Le  chastelain  ala  oultremer  a  grant  regret  de 
laissier  sa  dame  par  dessa.  Quant'  il  fut  oultre  il  fist  moult 
de  chevaleries,  car  il  estoit  vaillant  chevalier  et  avoit  grant 
joye  que  on  rapportast  par  dessa  nouvelles  de  ses  fais,  affin 
que  sa  dame  y  print  plaisir.  Sy  advint  que  a  ung  siege  que 
les  chrestiens  tenoyent  devant  sarrazins  oultre  [f.  258  r.]  mer 
ce  chastelains  fut  feru  d'un  quarel  ou  coste  bien  avant,  du 
quel  coup  il  luy  convint  mourir.  Sy  avoit  a  sa  mort  moult 
grant  regret  a  sa  dame,  et  pour  ce  apela  ung  sien  escuyer  et 
lui  dist :  "  Je  te  prie  que  quant  je  seray  mort  que  tu  pren- 
gnes  mon  cueur  et  le  met  en  telle  maniere  que  tu  le  puisses 
porter  en  France  a  madame  de  Faiel  et  l'envelopes  de  ces 

14  Chansons  du  Chdtelain  de  Couci,  Paris,  1830. 


7]  THE    CHATELAIN    DE    COUCI  7 

lenges  ycy."  Et  luy  bailla  le  las  que  la  dame  avoit  fait  de 
ses  cheveulx,  et  ung  petit  escriniet,  ou  il  avoit  plusieurs  aneles 
et  dyamans  que  la  dame  luy  avoit  donnez,  qu'il  portoit  tous- 
jours  avant  luy  pour  l'amour  et  souvenance  d'elle.  Quant 
le  chevalier  fut  mort  ainsy  le  fit  l'escuyer  et  prist  Pescriniet 
et  luy  ovri  le  corps  et  prist  le  cueur,  et  sala  et  confit  bien 
en  bonnes  espices,  et  mist  en  Pescrinet  avecques  le  las  de 
ses  cheveulx  et  ung  petit  escrinet  ou  il  avoit  pluysieurs  aneles 
et  dyamans  que  la  dame  luy  avoit  donnez,15  et  avecques  unes 
lettres  moult  piteuses  que  le  chastelain  avoit  escriptes  a  sa 
mort  et  signees  de  sa  main.  Quant  l'escuyer  fut  retourne 
en  France  il  vint  vers  le  lieu  ou  la  dame  demouroit,  et  se 
bouta  en  ung  boys  pres  de  ce  lieu  et  luy  mesavint  tellement 
qu'il  fut  veu  du  seigneur  de  Faiel  qui  bien  le  congneut.  Sy 
vint  le  seigneur  de  16  Fayel  atout  deux  de  ses  privez  en  ce 
boys  et  trouva  cest  escuyer  auquel  il  voult  courir  sus  ou  despit 
de  son  maistre  qu'il  haioit  plus  que  homme  du  monde. 
L'escuyer  luy  crya  mercy,  et  le  chevalier  luy  dist :  "  Ou  je 
te  ocirray  ou  tu  me  diras  ou  est  le  chastelain."  L'escuyer 
luy  dist  qu'il  estoit  trespasse.  Et  pour  ce  qu'il  ne  Pen  vouloit 
croire  et  avoit  cest  escuyer  paour  de  morir  il  luy  moustra 
Pescrinet  pour  Pen  faire  certain.  Le  seigneur  de 17  Eayel 
print  Pescrinet  et  donna  conge  a  l'escuyer.  Et  le  seigneur 
vint  a  son  queux  et  luy  dist  qu'il  mist  ce  cueur  en  si  bonne 
manyere  et  Pappar-ellast 18  en  telle  confiture  que  on  en  peut 
bien  menger.  Li  queulx  le  fist  et  fist  d'aultre  viande  19  toute 
parelle  et  mist  en  bonne  charpie  en  ung  plat,  et  en  fut  la 
dame  servie  au  disner,  et  le  seigneur  mengoit  d'une  autre 
viande  qui  luy  ressembloit,  et  ainsy  menga  la  dame  le  cueur 
du  chastelain  son  amy.  Quant  elle  ot  menge  le  seigneur  luy 
demanda :  "  Dame,  avez  vous  menge  bonne  viande  ?  "  Et 
celle  luy  respondy  qu'elle  Pavoit  menge  bonne.     II  luy  dist: 

15  The  MS.  adds,  et  avec  le  las  de  ses  cheveulx. 

"ms.  du.  "ms.   du. 

"  ms.  apparellasst.  "  ms.  viaulde. 


8  MATZKE  [8 

"  Pour  cela  vous  l'ay  je  fait  apparellier  car  c'est  une  viande 
que  vous  avez  moult  amee."  La  dame  qui  jamais  ne  pensast 
que  ce  fut  n'en  dist  plus  riens.  Et  le  seigneur  luy  dist  dere- 
chef :  "  Savez  que  vous  20  avez  menge  ?  "  Et  elle  respondi 
que  non.  Et  il  luy  dist :  "  Adont  or  sachez  que  vous  avez 
menge  le  eueur  du  chastelain  de  Coucy."  Quant  elle  oyt  ce, 
sy  fut  en  grant  pensee  pour  la  souvenance  qu'elle  eust  de  son 
amy.  Mais  encore  ne  peust  elle  croire  ceste  chose  jusques  a  21 
ce  que  le  seigneur  luy  bailla  l'escrinet  et  les  lettres,  en  quant 
elle  vit  les  choses  qui  estoient  dedens  l'escrin,  elle  les  cong- 
neut,  si  commenga  a  lire  les  lettres.  Quant  elle  congneut  son 
signe  manuel  et  les  ensengnes,  adont  commence  fort  a  changer 
et  avoir  couleur  et  puis  commenga  forment  a  penser,  et  quant 
elle  ot  pense  elle  dit  a  son  seigneur :  "  II  est  vray  que  ceste 
viande  ay  je  moult  amee  et  croy  qu'il  soit  mort  dont  est 
dommage,  comme  du  plus  loyal  chevalier  du  monde.  Et  vous 
m'avez  fait  menger  son  cueur,  et  est  la  derniere  viande  que 
je  mengeray  22  oncques,  ne  oncques  je  ne  menjay  point  de  si 
noble  ne  de  si  gentil  viande.  Sy  n'est  pas  raison  que  apres 
si  gentil  viande  je  doye  en  mettre  aultre  dessus,  et  vous  jure 
par  ma  foy  que  jamais  je  ne  mengeray  d'aultre  viande  apres 
ceste  cy."  La  dame  leva  du  disner  et  s'en  ala  en  sa  chambre 
faisant  moult  grant  douleur,  et  plus  avoit  de  douleur  qu'elle 
n'en  moustroit  la  chiere.  Et  en  celle  doleur  a  grant  regret 
et  complaintes  de  la  mort  de  son  amy  fina  sa  vie  et  mourut. 
De  ceste  chose  fut  le  seigneur  de  Fayel  courouce,  mais  il  n'y 
peut  mettre  remede,  ne  homme  ne  femme  du  monde.  Ceste 
chose  fut  sceu  par  tout  le  pays  et  en  ot  grant  guerre  le  seig- 
neur de  Fayel  aux  amis  de  sa  femme  tant  qu'il  convint  que 
la  chose  fut  rapaisee  du  roy  et  des  barons  du  pays.  Ainsy 
finerent  les  amours  du  chastelain  du  Coucy  et  de  la  dame  de 
Fayel. 

This  Chronique  has  so  far  not  received  the  attention  which 
"  MS.  vomz.  M  ms.  ad.  **  MS.   menjay. 


9]  THE   CHATELAIN   DE   COUCI  9 

it  merits.  Beschnidt  examined  it  rapidly  in  his  dissertation, 
Die  Biographie  des  Trobadors  Guillem  de  Capestaing,2Z  and 
came  to  the  conclusion 24  that  it  is  based  partly  on  our 
roman  d'aventure  and  partly  on  what  was  probably  a  Latin 
account  of  the  story,  and  at  the  same  time  the  real  source  of 
the  Old  French  poem  and  the  Provencal  biography.  Gaston 
Paris  25  rejected  this  theory  and  returned  to  the  older  belief 
that  the  Chronique  represents  nothing  but  a  brief  digest  of 
the  Old  French  poem.  Patzig  20  examined  it  somewhat  more 
carefully  and  noted  some  of  its  most  striking  features,  but 
he  did  not  go  into  the  question  at  sufficient  length,  and  in 
the  end  he  accepted  an  explanation  but  slightly  different 
from  that  proposed  by  Beschnidt. 

The  initial  difficulty  of  the  problem  lies  in  the  clause  of  the 
Chronique:  si  come  Vistoire  le  raconte  qui  parle  de  leur  vie 
dont  il  y  a  romant  propre.  Together  with  others,  both  Be- 
schnidt and  Patzig  believed  that  the  histoire  and  the  romant 
propre  are  two  different  texts  which  the  author  of  the 
Chronique  combined.  Yet  it  is  evident  that  such  a  method 
would  presuppose  a  critical  attitude  scarcely  to  be  expected 
on  the  part  of  its  author.  We  are  ready,  therefore,  to  accept 
the  interpretation  of  the  clause  given  by  Gaston  Paris :  'comme 
le  raconte  Vhistoire  de  leur  vie,  car  il  existe  un  roman  qui 
leur  est  particulierement  consacre.'  However,  even  then  the 
difficulty  is  not  removed,  for  we  shall  presently  see  that  the 
roman  of  which  we  know  cannot  have  been  the  source  of  the 
Chronique.  To  meet  this  difficulty,  the  claim  might  be  ad- 
vanced that  another  version  of  our  story  must  have  existed, 
also  in  the  form  of  a  roman  d'aventure,  as  for  example  is 
true  of  Tristan  or  Floire  et  Blancheflor.  There  would  be  no 
way  of  substantiating  this  claim,  but  in  support  of  it  atten- 
tion might  be  called  to  the  marginal  notes  of  the  Chronique 
added  by  the  unidentified  eighteenth  century  hand:  Histoire 

n  Marburg,   1879.  2<  P.  25. 

33  Ro.  vili,  p.  369,  n.  4.  ^  Op.  cit.,  p.  20. 


10  MATZKE  [10 

du  Chast.  de  Coucy  on  the  left  side  of  this  passage,  and 
Romant  des  amours  du  chastelain  de  Coucy.  While  the 
former  is  the  constant  marginal  note  describing  the  contents, 
the  latter  is  plainly  intended  as  the  title  of  the  romant 
propre.  Is  the  form  of  this  title  the  invention  of  the  un- 
known annotator,  or  does  it  belong  to  a  manuscript  or  version 
of  the  story  which  he  knew?  If  the  second  of  these  possi- 
bilities were  correct,  then  we  should  have  here  evidence  of 
the  fact  that  as  late  as  the  eighteenth  century  there  existed 
some  version  or  manuscript  with  a  title  differing  from  those 
known  at  present.  Crapelet's  manuscript  bears  the  super- 
scription: Ci  commence  li  Roumans  dou  chastelain  de  Couci 
et  de  la  dame  du  Faiiel;  the  other  available  manuscript  reads : 
Ch'est  li  romans  du  castelain  de  Couci;  a  third,  cited  by  Cra- 
pelet,  p.  xv,  from  the  inventory  of  the  library  of  Charles  V 
made  in  1373,  cites  a  poem  du  chastelain  de  Coucy,  de  la 
dame  de  Fay  el,  with  a  later  similar  record  in  1415,  but  all 
trace  of  this  manuscript  has  disappeared.27  However,  while 
this  marginal  note  might  be  evidence  of  another  version, 
there  is  no  way  by  which  the  fact  could  be  proved,  and  it  is 
therefore  not  worth  while  to  dwell  on  it.  Moreover,  the 
assumption  of  a  second  version  of  our  story  is  unnecessary, 
and  the  relation  of  the  roman  oVaventure  and  the  Chronique 
finds  a  satisfactory  explanation  along  another  road.  Let 
us  first  compare  the  two  versions  and  note  the  differences. 

The  Chronique  knows  nothing  of  the  hero's  profession  as 
trouvere.  Eegnault  de  Coucy  is  a  moult  gentil  gallart  preux 
chevalier  en  armes.  He  joins  the  crusade  of  Philippe  and 
Kichard  of  his  own  accord,  pour  ce  qu'il  exercitoit  voulentiers 
les  armes.  The  keepsake  which  the  lady  of  Faiel  gives  him 
is  not  a  braid  of  her  hair,  but  ung  las  de  soye  moult  bel  et 
bien  fait,  et  y  avoit  de  ses  cheveux  ouvrez  parmi  la  soye.  In 
the  Holy  Land  the  chatelain  is  spurred  on  to  deeds  of  valor  by 

"Cf.  also  Delisle,  Recherches  sur  la  librairie  de  Charles  V,  Paris, 
1907,  Vol.  n,  p.  186. 


11]  THE    CHATELAIN    DE    COUCI  11 

the  knowledge  of  the  pleasure  that  his  lady  will  experience 
when  she  hears  of  them.  The  arrow  which  wounds  him  is 
not  poisoned,  and  his  death  apparently  occurs  on  land,  or  at 
least  no  mention  is  made  of  any  preparations  for  the  home- 
ward journey.  Together  with  his  heart,  and  the  las  que  la 
dame  avoit  fait  de  ses  pheveulx,  he  sends  to  her  plusieurs 
aneles  et  dynamans  que  le  dame  lui  avoit  donnez.  The  letter 
which  accompanies  these  gifts  was  written  and  signed  by  the 
chatelain  himself  before  his  death.  The  squire  meets  the 
husband,  accompanied  by  two  of  his  men.  When  the  dreadful 
meal  has  been  eaten,  the  lady  lauds  its  taste,  not  of  her  own 
impulse,  as  in  the  roman,  but  in  answer  to  the  question  of 
her  husband.  When  she  realizes  what  has  happened  she  does 
not  swoon,  as  in  the  poem,  but  she  goes  to  her  room,  faisant 
moult  grant  douleur  .  .  .  .  Et  en  celle  doleur  ....  fina  sa 
vie  et  mourut.  And,  finally,  when  the  deed  becomes  known, 
the  family  of  the  lady  makes  war  upon  the  seigneur  de  Fayel. 
These  differences  are  fundamental  and  remain  unexplained 
on  the  assumption  that  the  author  of  the  Chronique  made  a 
careless  rendering  of  the  poem.  How  could  he  forget  that 
the  hero  was  known  in  Palestine  as 

Li  chevaliers   as   grans   proueces 

Qui  sus  son  elme  porte  treces   (Crapelet,  7477) 

that  he  was  sent  on  the  crusade  thru  a  ruse  of  the  husband, 
that  he  was  wounded  by  a  poisoned  arrow,  and  that  he  died 
on  the  ship  during  his  return  journey?  We  have  definite 
evidence  here  of  the  existence  of  another  version  of  the  chate- 
lain de  Coucy  story,  and  in  addition  we  may  unquestionably 
conclude  that  it  was  older  than  and  independent  of  the 
roman  d'aventure,  for  the  literary  form  of  this  poem  would 
have  prevented  the  fabrication  of  a  new  version  differing 
from  it  in  important  and  fundamental  details.  There  is 
further  evidence  that  this  older  form  of  the  story  stood  in 
close  relation  to  the  Provencal  Biography,  for  there  also  the 


12  MATZKE  [12 

cruel  husband  is  punished  by  the  relatives  of  his  wife.  Since 
a  closely  similar  ending  is  found  also  in  the  Indian  version 
published  by  Swynnerton,  its  reappearance  here  cannot  be 
due  to  accident. 

The  evidence  brought  forward  here  necessitates  a  read- 
justment of  all  the  facts  accepted  so  far  with  reference  to 
the  source  and  composition  of  the  poem  of  Jakemon  Maket.28 
In  the  first  place,  we  shall  be  able  to  understand  better  the 
manner  in  which  this  legend  of  the  eaten  heart  became 
associated  with  the  Chatelain  de  Couci.  The  roman  calls 
him  Kenault,  and  Gaston  Paris  29  accepted  this  as  the  name 
of  the  trouvere.  Believing  further  that  Maket  was  the  first 
to  connect  the  story  with  the  chatelain,  he  saw  the  initial 
reason  for  it  in  the  tone  of  the  Chatelain  de  Couci's  poem 
beginning  A  vous,  amant,  plus  qu'a  nule  autre  gent,  which 
Maket  cites.  Some  years  later  Fath  30  showed  that  the  name 
of  the  trouvere  was  in  reality  Gui  de  Couci,  and  that  he 
was  unmarried  and  had  died  and  been  buried  at  sea  during 
the  fourth  crusade,  a  fact  mentioned  by  Villehardouin, 
§  124.  Maket's  identification  appeared,  therefore,  to  be  a 
mistake,  and  Fath  saw  its  explanation  in  the  fact  that  manu- 
scripts containing  the  chatelain's  songs  always  refer  to  him 
simply  as  the  Chatelain  de  Couci.  Living  in  Vermandois 
during  the  second  half  of  the  thirteenth  century,  our  author 
knew  at  least  two  chatelains  of  Couci  by  the  name  of  Eenaut, 
and  he  might  easily  have  inferred  that  the  trouvere  bore  the 
same  name. 

28  The  acrostic  in  the  better  of  the  two  known  manuscripts  reads 
Jakemes  Makes,  of  which  Jakemon  Maket  would  be  the  accusative 
form,  and  this  should  be  accepted  as  the  author's  name;  cf.  also 
Langlois,  op.  cit.,  p.  221.  It  is  interesting  in  this  connection  to  point 
out  a  threefold  mention  of  a  person  or  persons  of  this  name,  of 
course  not  our  author,  in  Tournai  toward  the  end  of  the  thirteenth 
century:  cf.  Zwei  altfranz.  Friedensregister  der  Stadt  Tournai, 
published  by  Benary,  RF.  xxv,  p.   156. 

28  Ro.  vili,  p.  353  ss. 

80  Die  Lieder  des  Castellans  von  Coucy,  Heidelberg,   1883. 


13]  THE    CHATELAIN    DE    COUCI  13 

The  evidence  before  us,  however,  points  in  a  different 
direction.  The  Chronique  also  calls  the  hero  Renaut,  and 
this  fact  makes  it  extremely  likely  that  this  name  existed 
already  in  the  earlier  and  simpler  version  from  which  the 
Chronique  derives.  To  be  sure  this  text  is  late  and  the 
great  popularity  of  Maket's  poem  might  have  influenced  its 
author,  just  as  it  caused  this  same  name  to  be  introduced 
into  at  least  one  of  the  lyric  manuscripts,  Brit.  Mus.  Egerton, 
27431  There  is,  however,  no  reason  to  think  that  this  was 
the  case  here,  for  the  whole  story  in  the  Chronique  is  told 
in  a  straightforward  manner  without  any  evidence  of  addi- 
tions or  changes,  and  the  hero  is  described  as  '  ung  aultre  32 
moult  gentil  gallart  preux  chevalier  en  amies  qui  s'apeloit 
Regnault  de  Coucy,  et  estoit  chastelain  de  Coucy.'  This 
detail  in  the  short  account  must  have  identical  value  with 
the  other  characteristic  traits  emphasized  above.  If  the 
author  had  intended  to  describe  his  hero  in  the  light  of 
Maket's  poem,  he  would  have  called  Renaut  a  trouvere.  The 
omission  of  this  detail  is  reasonable  before,  but  not  after,  the 
composition  of  the  roman  d'aventure.  It  follows,  then,  that 
the  confusion  of  names  is  not  due  to  Maket,  and  that  the 
earlier  version  also  called  the  hero  Renaut,  chdtelain  de  Couci, 
but  it  would  be  wrong  to  infer  further  that  the  hero  was  some 
other  chatelain  de  Couci  and  not  the  famous  trouvere.  When 
the  name  of  a  poet  had  once  been  introduced  into  the  story 
in  Provence,  it  was  natural  that  in  a  different  region  another 
poet  should  be  similarly  treated. 

The  reasons  why  Guillem  de  Cabestaing  was  singled  out 
in  the  first  place  are  beyond  our  reach.  Perhaps  the  name 
of  the  hero  in  the  lost  Provengal  version,  from  which  the 
Biography  derives  and  of  which  we  have  an  imperfect  echo 
in  the  Guardastagno  of  Boccaccio,  gave  the  impetus.     Carried 

"See  Fath,  op.  cit.,  p.  10. 

a  Evidently  other  knights  had  been  spoken  of  in  previous  sections 
of  the  Chronique. 


14  MATZKE  [14 

to  the  north  of  France,  the  story  became  attached  to  the  figure 
of  the  Chatelain  de  Couci,  whom  tradition  wrongly  called 
Renaut.  Why  he  should  have  been  selected  remains  equally 
obscure.  His  songs  are  in  many  respects  not  very  different 
from  hundreds  of  other  lyrics  of  the  period.  Yet  there  is 
in  several  of  them  a  note  of  reality,  a  certain  definiteness  of 
situation,  which  create  the  impression  that  they  are  based 
on  more  than  mere  commonplaces  of  lyric  composition.  At 
any  rate  the  Chatelain  de  Couci  was  looked  upon  as  one  of 
the  serious  lovers  of  his  profession.  He  had  been  a  member 
of  the  fourth  crusade,  had  made  the  pain  of  parting  from  his 
lady  the  subject  of  his  song,  had  celebrated  the  fact  that 
his  heart  was  left  behind  with  his  love,  had  died  during  the 
journey,  and  had  been  buried  at  sea.  We  may  also  imagine 
that,  in  accord  with  a  frequent  custom  of  the  period,  his 
heart  had  been  cut  from  his  body  by  his  attendants  and 
brought  back  to  his  native  land  for  burial.  All  these  facts 
must  have  been  active  in  attracting  the  story  to  him.  His 
name  was  in  reality  Gui,  but  he  was  commonly  known  rather 
by  the  office  which  he  held,  an  office  hereditary  in  his  family. 
Thus  the  Chatelain  de  Couci  became  the  hero  of  a  new  form 
of  our  story,  and  a  name  which  was  probably  frequent  in 
this  well-known  family  was  attributed  to  him. 

In  this  effort  to  trace  the  road  over  which  the  tradition 
traveled  before  it  found  a  literary  form  in  the  poem  of  Jake- 
mon  Maket,  we  must  not  be  misled  by  the  story  as  this  author 
tells  it.  He  made  numerous  additions  to  the  plot,  added 
the  lyrics,  following  the  fashion  set  by  the  author  of  Guillaume 
de  Dole,  and  in  a  general  way  elaborated  the  trouvere  side 
of  his  hero,  but  his  source  as  such  was  probably  closely  similar 
to  the  form  of  the  story  preserved  for  us  in  the  Chronique. 
What  the  nature  of  this  source  was  must  remain  a  mere 
matter  of  surmise.  It  may  be  that  it  had  already  been 
utilized  for  some  earlier  roman  d'aventure,  of  which  the 
much  discussed  lay  of  Guirun  might  be  an  evidence.  It  may 
also  have  been  a  simple  story  modeled  upon  the  Provencal 


15]  THE    CHATELAIN    DE    COUOI  15 

biography,  with  which  the  Chronique  shows  some  striking 
similarity.  The  whole  new  setting  of  the  story  is  due  to 
the  change  of  hero,  who,  tho  a  poet,  joins  the  crusade  in 
his  capacity  as  knight  and  dies  duriDg  his  absence  from  home. 

This  point  of  view  allows  us  to  estimate  more  accurately 
than  has  been  possible  heretofore  the  methods  followed  by 
Jakemon  Maket  in  the  composition  of  his  poem.  It  explains 
in  the  first  place  why  the  character  of  the  hero  as  a  knight 
appears  so  prominently  in  the  poem.  The  poet  attracted  the 
story,  but  this  side  of  him  remained  undeveloped  in  the  earlier 
version.  Maket  decided  to  give  it  prominence,  but  he  failed 
to  work  his  additions  into  an  integral  part  of  the  whole 
picture.  His  hero  wins  the  love  of  his  lady  thru  his  prowess 
in  tournaments  and  jousts,  in  fact  he  frequents  these  gather- 
ings so  that  the  report  of  his  valor  may  come  to  the  ears 
of  the  lady  of  Faiel,  just  as  in  the  Chronique  the  chatelain 
hopes  that  she  may  hear  of  his  deeds  during  the  crusade. 

In  the  next  place  he  weaves  into  his  plot  certain  charac- 
teristic themes  from  the  Tristan  legend.  Yzabel  plays  the 
role  of  Brangien,  the  husband  watches  an  interview  of  the 
chatelain  and  his  wife  and  is  deceived  as  to  the  real  relation 
between  the  two,  just  as  Mark  is  constantly  misled  concerning 
the  love  of  Tristan  and  Isolt.  He  introduces  a  series  of 
stealthy  interviews  in  which  the  chatelain  meets  the  lady  in 
disguise,  as  Tristan  meets  Isolt,  and  for  one  of  these  scenes 
he  utilizes  a  theme  which  he  probably  knew  from  the  Eracle 
of  Gautier  d' Arras.  Finally,  he  draws  on  the  Tristan  legend 
for  the  ruse  which  the  husband  employs  to  induce  the  chate- 
lain to  take  the  cross.  The  Chronique  states  that  the  hero 
joined  the  crusade  because  of  his  love  of  warfare.  He  intro- 
duced the  lyrics  as  already  indicated,  and  developed  to  the 
full  the  poetic  significance  of  the  lyric  commonplace  of  the 
lover's  heart,  which  Chrestien  had  combatted  in  his  Cliges.33 
The  jealous  lady,  who  betrays  his  secret,  belongs  probably  to 

MCf.  Von  Hamel,  Ro.  xxxin,  p.  470. 


16  MATZKE  [16 

the  Chatelaine  de  Vergi.     Certain  other  borrowings  have  been 
indicated  by  Grober.34 

This  conception  of  the  origin  of  Jakemon  Maket's  fine 
composition  I  believe  is  essentially  correct.  As  far  as  I  can 
see,  it  is  in  entire  harmony  with  the  history  of  the  legend 
as  a  whole.  But  space  forbids  me  to  go  into  the  subject  here 
more  at  length.  A  full  treatment  of  the  whole  question  must 
be  deferred  for  another  occasion.* 


The  facts  brought  forward  here  do  not  clear  up  entirely  the 
relation  of  Konrad  von  Wiirzburg's  poem  and  the  Exemplum  to 
our  poem.     The  German  poem  relates  the  following  story. 

Das  Herze.  A  knight  and  a  lady  love  each  other,  but  they  can 
not  meet  as  they  wish  because  the  lady  is  jealously  guarded  by 
her  husband,  especially  when  he  begins  to  suspect  her  passion.  To 
win  her  back  and  to  make  the  two  lovers  forget  each  other,  he 
decides  to  take  her  with  him  on  a  journey  to  the  Holy  Land. 
When  the  knight  hears  of  this  plan  he  decides  at  once  to  follow 
them;  and  the  lady  is  much  pleased  with  this  decision.  She  even 
advises  him  to  begin  this  journey  at  once,  so  that  the  husband, 
when  he  hears  of  it,  may  lose  his  suspicion  and  leave  her  at  home. 
The  knight  agrees  to  her  wish,  accepts  a  ring  from  her  as  a  keep- 
sake, and  parts  from  her  with  a  heavy  heart  and  sad  forebodings. 

He  goes  across  the  sea  and  lives  there,  lonesome  and  shunning 
all  amusements,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  his  lady  again.  In  the  end 
his  grief  grows  so  strong  that  he  feels  his  death  approaching.  He 
commands  his  squire  to  cut  his  heart  from  his  body  after  his  death, 
to  place  it  in  a  golden  box  together  with  the  ring  of  his  lady,  and 
to  carry  it  to  her.  Then  he  dies  and  the  squire  executes  his  com- 
mands. 

When  he  comes  near  the  lady's  castle,  he  meets  the  husband, 
out  with  his  falcons.     The  husband   recognizes  the  squire,  at  once 

**  Grundriss,  n.  Band,  I.  Abtlg.,  p.  772. 

*  The  study  printed  above  had  been  completed  and  sent  in  to  the 
editors  of  this  volume  before  Professor  Matzke's  death.  A  portion 
of  the  larger  study  to  which  he  referred  (supra,  p.  2)  was  found 
among  his  papers,  and  has  been  published  in  MLN.  xxvi,  pp.  1-8, 
with  the  exception  of  the  treatment  of  the  German  versions,  which 
has  been  appended  to  the  present  article. 

F.  M.  W. 


17]  THE    CHATELAIN    DE    COUCI  17 

suspects  a  message,  and  seeing  the  golden  box  attached  to  the  squire's 
belt  asks  him  about  its  contents.  The  squire  tries  to  avoid  giving  an 
answer,  the  knight  then  forces  him  to  give  it  up,  and,  when  he  has 
seen  the  objects  it  contains,  at  once  guesses  their  destination.  He 
sends  the  squire  on  his  way  with  threats,  returns  home,  gives  the 
heart  to  the  cook  and  orders  him  to  prepare  it  for  the  table.  Then 
he  sits  down  to  eat  with  his  wife,  and  offers  her  the  dish  which 
he  says  was  prepared  only  for  her.  She  eats  it,  not  suspecting  its 
nature,  and,  thinking  that  she  has  never  eaten  finer  food,  asks 
what  its  nature  is.  The  husband  shows  her  the  ring,  and  tells 
her  what  she  has  eaten  and  how  he  has  gained  possession  of  the 
heart.  The  lady  falls  into  a  swoon,  exclaiming  that  after  such 
a  delicious  dish  God  forbid  that  she  should  take  any  food.  And 
thereupon  her  grief  becomes  so  violent  that  she  clasps  her  hands 
in  despair  and  her  heart  bursts. 

It  is  evident  that  this  poem  cannot  derive  from  the  poem  of 
Jakemon  Maket.  The  reasons  which  militate  against  this  belief 
are  clearly  stated  by  Gaston  Paris.35  Comparison  with  the  Chroni- 
que also  shows  fundamental  differences,  so  that  the  version  given 
the  story  by  Konrad  von  Wiirzburg  would  seem  to  have  no  direct 
relation  to  either  of  the  other  two.  On  the  other  hand,  the  general 
framework  of  the  German  poem  is  closely  similar  to  that  of  the 
two  French  versions.  The  journey  to  the  Holy  Land,  the  lover's 
death  in  that  part  of  the  world,  the  function  of  the  squire  in  the 
story,  and  the  method  by  which  the  husband  obtains  possession  of 
the  heart,  all  these  are  elements  which  are  not  likely  to  have 
been  added  to  the  story  at  different  times,  independently  of  each 
other.     The  German  poem  must  be  related  to  the  French  version. 

But  the  evidence  at  hand  is  not  sufficient  to  allow  us  to  solve 
the  problem.  Certainly  no  conclusions  should  be  drawn  from  an 
argument  ex  silentio.  Konrad  von  Wiirzburg  may  not  have  known 
that  Renaut,  Chatelain  de  Couci,  was  a  trouvfere,  if  that  name  stood 
in  his  source,  for  this  fact  is  not  stated  in  the  Chronique.  He  may 
have  misunderstood  the  references  to  the  crusades,  or  they  may  not 
have  interested  him,  and  he  may  have  preferred  to  treat  this  portion 
of  his   source   in  his   own   way. 

We  are  thus  forced  to  look  upon  the  German  poem  as  an  inde- 
pendent offspring  of  the  source  of  Jakemon  Maket  and  the  Chronique, 
where  the  transmission  has  become  altered,  either  because  inter- 
vening links  are  lost  or  because  the  German  author  treated  his 
material  freely. 

The   fourth   member   in    this   group   is    an   exemplum   cited   in   a 

"Ro.  vni,  p.  366. 
2 


18  MATZKE  [18 

collection  of  sermons  often  printed  in  the  fifteenth  century  under 
the  title  of  Sermones  parati.  Gaston  Paris  *•  believed  that  it  is 
based  upon  the  lost  source  of  Konrad  von  Wurzburg.  For  the  sake 
of  completeness  we  print  the  Short  text  anew.  Comparison  with  our 
abstract  of  the  German  poem  will  make  it  clear  that  it  is  closely 
related  to  it,  and,  considering  its  date,  we  are  inclined  to  look  upon 
it  as  a  derivative  of  this  poem  rather  than  its  source. 

Quidam  miles  turpiter  adamavit  uxorem  alterius  militis.  Con- 
tigit  autem  ipsum  mare  transire;  cumque  ibi  infirmaretur  et  morti 
appropinquaret,  ita  fatuus  erat  et  ita  excecatus  amore  mulieris 
quod  nee  communicare  nee  confiteri  voluit.  Preeepit  autem  servo 
suo  ut  eo  mortuo  cor  suum  amice  sue  in  pixide  portaret;  quod  cum 
fecisset  et  reversus  vellet  intrare  castrum  illius  domine,  occurrit  ei 
vir  ejus  et  quesivit  ab  eo  quid  de  transmarinis  partibus  portaret;  et 
cum  nihil  responderet  coegit  eum  ut  diceret;  et  accipiens  cor  istud 
conditum  in  pixide  (et)  bene  coctum  dedit  uxori  sue  ut  comederet. 
Cumque  comedisset  quesivit  de  domina  dicens:  Dilexisti  etiam  ilium 
militem  qui  mare  transivit.  Et  ilia  rubedine  perfusa  loqui  non  aude- 
bat.  Et  dixit  miles:  Sciatis,  domina,  quod  cor  dilecti  vestri  vobis  de 
transmarinis  partibus  missum  comedistis.  Et  ilia  respondit:  Et 
certe  ego  post  ilium  cibum  nunquam  alium  cibum  comedam.  Et 
interfecit  seipsam.  Ecce  quomodo  luxuria  istos  duos  fatuos  fecit 
et  excecavit. 

The  relation  established  so  far  is  the  following: 


X 

1 

1 

lian 

1 
Provencal  (lost) 

1 

Bocc. 

1 
Biog.  2 

1 

Biog.  1 

Y 

1 

1 

Chat,  de 

Couci 

Chronique 

l 
i 

Konrad 
von  Wurzburg 

Exemplum 
L.  c,  p.  367,  note  2. 


THE  CASTLE  OF   THE  GRAIL— AN  IRISH 
ANALOGUE 

BY 

[ 

William  A.  Nitze 


Crestien  de  Troyes  and  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach  agree,  as 
compared  with  the  other  grail  romances,  in  describing  more 
or  less  precisely  the  external  setting  in  which  the  ceremony 
of  the  grail  takes  place.  More  than  any  of  their  contempo- 
raries (1180  to  1205),  they  give  to  it  a  local  habitation  and 
a  name,  the  remoteness  and  unfamiliarity  of  which  must 
have  excited  the  wonder,  and  stimulated  the  imagination,  of 
those  who  came  after  them.  Thus  in  the  Titurel  of  Albrecht 
von  Scharfenberg,  composed  during  the  latter  part  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  the  temple  of  the  grail  is  a  church  of 
matchless  splendor,  the  architectural  ideal  of  a  mystical 
Christian  brotherhood.1  But  of  the  simpler,  more  charac- 
teristic description  of  Crestien  and  Wolfram  only  indistinct 
traces  survive  in  later  works,  such  as  the  Prose  Perceval,2  the 
Perlesvaus3  (Gawain's  visit)  and  the  Peredur.*  Here  the 
location  of  the  castle  is  still  beyond  a  river  (lake)  and  behind 
a  mountain,  as  the  Fisher  King  had  said,  but  the  hall  (sale) 
in  which  the  holy  vessel  appears  does  not  differ  formally  from 
any  typical  baronial  hall  of  the  twelfth  or  thirteenth  centu- 
ries. And  in  the  Peredur  alone  do  we  still  find  mention  of 
the  fire  in  front  of  which  the  host  and  his  visitors  are  seated, 

*Cf.  F.  Zarncke,  Der  Graltempel,  Sachs.  Akad.  vn,  1876. 

*  Jessie  L.  Weston,  Sir  Perceval,  II,  pp.  57  ff. 

*  Potvin  I,  86,  128  ff.  But  it  is  Lancelot  not  Gawain,  who  meets 
the  fishermen. 

4  Loth,  hes  Mabinogion,  ir,  45  ff.,  56. 

1]  19 


20  NITZE  [2 

though  beyond  the  bare  statement  of  this  fact  nothing  is 
said  of  the  castle  and  its  equipment.  The  Crone,  replete  as 
it  is  otherwise  with  valuable  information  especially  on  the 
grail,  contains  no  evidence  of  importance  5  on  our  subject. 

Thus  the  grail  castle  descriptions  of  Crestien  and  Wolfram 
are  distinct  in  character,  and  have  a  marked  resemblance  to 
each  other.  It  would  be  folly  to  attempt  to  decide  a  priori 
their  immediate  relationship.  So  much  only  is  certain  that 
here  Wolfram  is  either  following  the  French  poet  with  seme 
elaboration,  or  else  he  is  using  a  source  close  to  Crestien's. 
For  the  moment  it  matters  little  which  view  we  prefer  since 
the  ultimate  origin  of  both  accounts  must  be  the  same.  But 
from  what  we  now  know  of  Crestien's  methods  in  other 
cases;  that  is,  his  characteristic  habit  of  retaining  in  his 
story  marked  details  of  his  original,  regardless  often  of  their 
relevancy  to  the  feudal  conditions  he  describes,  we  may  as- 
sume that  here,  too,  he  drew  on  a  definite  source.  It  is  more 
than  probable  that  the  latter  was  identical  with  the  livre  given 
him  by  Philip  of  Flanders: 

"The  following  citations  show  that  Heinrich's  conception  of  the 
castle  was  that  of  Crestien,  though  no  fireplace  is  mentioned. 

Dirre  wlte  und  lange  sal 
Wart  vol  von  in  liberal 
Und  die  tische  bevangen. 


90.    29271  ff. 


Die   kerzen   und   kerzstal 
Truogen  vil  ane  zal 
Daz  machte  den  sal  als6  lieht, 
Daz  man  mochte  vervahen  nieht, 
Ob  ez  tac  oder  naht  waere. 

Der  wirth   saz  under  den  drin 

Den  sal  urribe  und  unibe  urrib  in 

Die  andern  besazen; 

Mit  einander    da   azen 

Ein  ritter  und  eine  vrouwe  ie. 


29282  ff. 


29298  ff. 


3]  THE   CASTLE   OF    THE    GEAIL  21 

Ce  est  li  contes  del  graal 
Don  li  cuens  li  bailla  le  livre.* 

But,  however  that  may  be,  the  source  7  already  contained 
Celtic  material,  for  Crestien's  scenario,  the  Grail  Palace, 
practically  reproduces  the  Banqueting  or  Mead  House  of  the 
Irish  heroic  saga.  I  propose  to  discuss  in  the  following 
pages  the  bearing  of  this  analogue  on  the  origin  of  the  grail 
question.  Before  doing  so,  it  will  be  necessary  to  outline  in 
detail  Crestien's  and  Wolfram's  respective  descriptions  of  the 
grail  castle. 


In  the  Perceval,8  after  the  hero  has  mounted  the  hill  (puy) 
to  which  the  fisherman  had  directed  him,  seeing  nothing  but 

*ms.  printed  by  Baist    (see  below,  note  8),  w.  66-67. 

1 1  assume,  of  course,  that  the  central  event  of  the  romance  was 
found  in  Philip's  book,  and  that  it  had  to  do  with  the  grail  cere- 
mony. Baist  is  inclined  to  think  (see  Parzival  u.  der  Oral,  Frei- 
burg, 1909,  p.  19)  that  in  the  source  the  counsels  (Weisheitslehren) 
were  more  closely  bound  up  with  the  action  than  in  Crestien.  This 
seems  to  me  possible,  if  it  can  be  shown,  as  I  believe  it  can, 
that  the  grail  ceremony  is  an  "  initiation."  At  the  same  time, 
Crestien,  as  we  see  from  his  other  works,  was  essentially  a  scho- 
lastic in  training  and  temperament.  This  fact  in  itself  would 
explain  the  emphasis  he  places  on  questions  of  conduct,  see  my 
Fountain  Defended,  in  Mod.  Phil,  vn,  146.  In  w.  4608  ff.  Crestien 
likens  the  theme  to  a  quest  of  Fortune  (cf.  Perlesvaus,  Pot.  I,  24 ff.), 
and  a  frequent  citation  of  proverbs  is  characteristic  of  his  works. 
His  relationship  to  the  mediaeval  learning  should  be  investigated. 
Further,  compare  the  instructions  given  by  Gornemanz,  w.  1610  ff. 
with  the  Ordene  de  Chevalerie,  printed  by  Meon,  Fab.  I,  59  ff . 

*  I  quote  from  Baist's  text,  privately  printed,  Freiburg,  1910.  Of 
the  value  of  this  version  Baist  says :  "  Eine  genaue  Wiedergabe  der 
Hs.  794  ist  der  Abdruck  erst  von  v.  6175  an,  bis  dahin  Auszug  einer 
Collation,  welche  die  Eigenart  des  champagnischen  Schreibers  wohl 
im  Grossen  u.  Ganzen,  aber  doch  nicht  mit  der  wunschenswerten 
absoluten   Genauigkeit  wiedergiebt." 


22  NITZE  [4 

sky  and  land,  he  accuses  his  guide  of  deception.     Presently, 
however,  he  perceives  nearby 

(a)  an  un  val 

Le  chief  d'une  tor  qui   parut; 
L'an  ne  trovast  jusqu'  a  Barut 
Si  bele  ne   si  bien  asise. 
Quarree  fu  de  pierre  bise, 
Si  auoit  [deus]   torneles  antor, 
La  sale  fu  devant  la  tor 
E   les  loges  devant  la  sale. 

[w.   3012  ff.,   Baist]. 

When  he  has  ridden  thither,  dismounted,  and  put  on  a 
"  mantel  d'escarlate,"  the  host  despatches  two  squires  to  greet 
him  in  the  loges. 

E  cil  avoec  ax  s'an  ala 
(6)       An  la  sale  qui  fu  quarree 
E  autant  longue  come  lee; 

Enmi  la  sale  sor  un  lit  , 

Un  bel  prodome  seoir  vit 
Que  estoit  de  chenez  meslez 
E  ses  chies  fu  anchapelez 
D'un  sebelin  noir  come  more; 
A  une  porpre  vox  desore 
E  d'itel  fu  sa  robe  tote, 
Apoiez  fu  desor  son  cote.* 

(c)  Si  ot  devant  lui  un  feu  grant 
De  sesche  busche  bien  ardant, 

(d)  E  fu  antre  quatre  colomes. 

9Cf.  a  similar  description  in  the  Perlesvaus,  Potvin  I,  86  ff:  Et  li 
rois  Peschieres  gisoit  an  un  lit  cordeiz  dont  li  quepou  estoient 
d'ivoire,  et  avoit  une  coute  de  paille  sor  quoi  il  gisoit  et  par  desus 
I  couvertoir  de  sable,  dont  li  dras  estoit  mout  riches.  Et  avoit  un 
chapel  de  sebelin  an  son  chief,  couvert  d'un  vermeil  samiz  de  soie, 
et  une  croiz  d'or;  et  avoit  desouz  son  chief  i  oreiller  qui  touz  estoit 
anbaumez,  et  avoit  an  mi  cornez  de  l'orillier  mi  pierres  qui  ran- 
doient  mout  grant  clart6;  et  avoit  I  piler  de  coivre  sor  quoi  i  aigle 
seoit  qui  tenoit  une  croiz  d'or. 


5]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  23 

Bien  poist  an  quatre  cent  homes 

Asseoir  anviron  le  feu, 

S'atist  chascuns  aeisie-  leu. 

Les  colomes  forz  i  estoient, 

Qui   le  cheminal   sostenoient,  ; 

D'arain  espes  e  haut  e  16. 

The  host  invites  Perceval  to  sit  beside  him: 

Li  vaslez  est  lez  lui  asis. 

Then  the  sword  is  presented ; 

la  sore  pucele 
Vostre  niece  qui   tant  est  bele 
Vos  anvoie  ci  cest  present. 

Perceval  finally  hands  it  to 

un  bacheler 
Antor  le  feu  qui  cler  ardoit. 

The  light  there  is 

Si  grant  com  l'an  le  porroit  faire 
De  chandoiles   an   un  ostel. 

Then  the  lance  and  the  grail  are  brought  forth.     From  the 
latter  there  streams  so  great  a  brilliancy 

(e)        [Qu']  ausi  perdirent  les  chandoiles 
Lor  clarte"  come  les  estoiles 
Quant  li  solauz  lieve  e  la  lune. 

De  fin  or  esmere"  estoit; 

Pierres  precieuses  auoit 

El  graal  de  maintes  menieres, 

Des  plus  riches  e  des  plus  chieres 

Qui  an  mer  ne  an  terre  soient. 

The  grail-bearers  pass  before  Perceval,  • 

E  d'un  chanbre  an  autre  alerent. 


24  stitze  -  [6 

(/)     Then  two  squires  bring 

Une  lee  table  d'ivoire 
Ensi  con  reconte  l'estoire 
Ele  estoit  tote  d'une  piece. 

This  is  placed  on 

deus  eschaces, 
Don  li  fuz  a  deus  bones  graces 
Don   les   eschaces   fetes   furent, 
Que   les   pieces   toz   jorz   andurent, 
Don  furent  eles  d'ebenus. 
De  celui  fust  ne  dot  ja  nus 
Que   il   porrisse   ne  qu'il   arde; 
De  ces  deus  choses  n'a  il  garde. 

As  each  dish  is  served  the  grail  passes 

Par  devant  lui  tot  descovert. 
Li  mangiers  fu  e  biax  e  buens; 
De  tel  mangier  que  rois  e  cuens 
E  empereres  doie  avoir 
Fu  li  prodom  serviz  le  soir, 
E  li  vaslez  ansanble  lui. 

(g)  When  it  is  time  to  retire  the  host  bids  Perceval,  who 
has  been  marvelling  much,  good-night,  and  is  carried  into 
his  own  room: 

"  Je  n'ai  nul  pooir  de  mon  cors 
Si  covandra  que  l'an  m'an  port." 

But  Perceval  goes  to  bed  in  the  hall  where  they  have  been 
sitting,  and  in  the  morning  when  he  awakes  he  finds  it  de- 
serted and  all  the  doors  to  the  adjoining  rooms  bolted.  The 
entrance  (Vuis)  to  the  hall,  however,  is  open;  and  passing 
out,  he  discovers  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  his  horse  saddled 
and  his  lance  and  shield  in  readiness  for  him. 

According  to  the  Parzival10  (v),  P.  had  come  by  a  long 
10  Ed.  Martin,  Halle,  1900-1903. 


7]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  '  25 

journey,  "  liber  ronen  und  durchez  mos  "  to  a  lake.11  Here 
he  meets  fishermen,  one  of  whom  wears  a  hat  with  peacock 
feathers.12  The  latter  sends  P.  to  his  house  to  the  right  of 
a  rock.     This  P.  finds  at  once. 

(a)  It  is  a  castle  (burc),  the  drawbridge  of  which  is  up. 
Unless  the  enemy  came  flying  or  were  blown  in  by  the  wind, 
it  could  not  be  stormed — so  round  and  smooth  the  castle  was 
built.13  A  squire  lowers  the  bridge ; 14  and  P.  rides  into  the 
yard,  where  "  ritter  jung  und  alt "  welcome  him. 

11  In  Chrestien  it  is  a  "  riviere  A  l'avalee  d'une  angarde." 
u  On  peacock  feathers  as  used  by  the  Irish,  see  Sullivan's  intro- 
duction,   p.    cccclxxxi    to    O'Curry,    Manners    and    Customs    of    the 
Ancient  Irish. 

13  See  Martin,  ii,  210,  for  the  translation  I  give.  This  feature  of 
the  castle  suggests  Chaucer's  Hous  of  Fame,  w.  2002-2006  (the 
House  of  Tidings)  : 

"  But  certein,  con  thing  I  thee  telle, 
That,   but  I  bringe   thee  ther-inne, 
Ne  shalt  thou  never  cunne  ginne 
To  come  in-to  hit,   out  of  doute, 
So   faste   hit  whirleth,   lo,   aboute." 

Chaucer  describes  a  typical  otherworld  abode,  similar  in  several 
characteristics  to  Wolfram's  castle,  the  castle  in  Syr  Gawayne  and 
the  Green  Knight,  etc.  For  the  latest  and  fullest  treatment,  see 
W.  O.  Sypherd,  Studies  in  Chaucer's  Hous  of  Fame,  1907  (Chaucer 
Soc),  pp.  138  ff.  The  following  features  are  of  interest  here:  an 
eagle,  i.  e.,  a  helpful  animal  ( see  Sypherd,  pp.  95  ff. ) ,  bears  him 
thither.     The  Hous  of  Fame,  v.  1116 ff.: 

stood  upon  so  high  a  roche, 
Hyer  stant  ther  noon  in  Spaine. 

The  Horn,  w.  1184-1185: 

Al  was  of  stone  of  beryle, 
Bothe  castel  and  the  tour; 

and  within  the  hall,  1360-1367: 

But  al  on  hye,  above  a  dees, 


14  See  Syr  Gawayne  and  the  Green  Knight,  ed.  Morris,  w.  764  ff ., 
where  Gawain  has  the  same  experience. 


26  NITZE  [8 

He  is  then  led  into  a  chamber,  where  he  doffs  his  armor 
and  puts  on  a  "mantel,  mit  pfelle  von  Arabi,"  the  property 

Sitte  in  a  see  imperial, 

That  maad  was  of  a  rubee  al, 

Which  that  a  carbuncle  is  y-called, 

I    saugh,    perpetually    y-stalled, 

A  feminynye  creature; 

That  never  formed  by  nature 

Nas    swich   another   thing  y-seye. 

Not  far  away,  in  a  valley,  is  the  House  of  Tidings  (there  are  often 
two  castles  in  otherworld  adventures,  a  typical  example  is  the 
Bel  Inconnu,  ed.  Hippeau,  vv.  2471-2829)  : 

An  hous,  that  Domus  Dedali, 
That  Laborintus  cleped  is, 
Nas  maad  so  wonderliche,  y-wis, 
No  half  so  queynteliche  y-wrought. 
And  ever-mo,  so  swift  as  thought, 
This  quentye  hous  aboute  wente, 
That  never-mo  hit  stille  stente. 

w.   1920-1926. 

A  "  turning "  castle  is  frequent  in  the  romances,  see  Perlesvaus, 
Pot.  I,  195  (Sypherd  also  mentions,  p.  149,  the  castle  in  the  Welsh 
Seint  Graal,  which  is,  however,  only  a  Welsh  redaction  of  the 
French  work)  ;  Crone,  vv.  12945-12966  (Reht  als  ein  mill,  diu  d& 
malt;  Diu  mure  was  als  ein  glas  Berhtel,  hoch  unde  glat)  ;  Mule 
sans  Frein,  ed.  Meon,  I,-  vv.  440-443;  Wigalois,  ed.  Pfeiffer,  w.  6714- 
7053;  Karlsreise,  vv.  369  ff.  (see  K.  G.  T.  Webster,  Eng.  Studien, 
xxxvi,  337  ff.,  for  the  Celtic  character  of  this  part  of  the  Karlsreise  ; 
in  Peredur,  Loth  ii,  92,  the  otherworld  mistress  is  empress  of  Con- 
stantinople, and  in  many  later  Celtic  tales  the  otherworld  is  Greece). 
The  chief  Irish  parallels  are:  the  fort  of  Curoi  in  the  Fled  Bricrend, 
ed.  Henderson,  §  81,  which  "revolved  as  swiftly  as  a  mill-stone"; 
and  the  island  of  the  revolving  "  fiery  rampart "  in  the  Voyage  of 
Maelduin,  Stokes,  Revue  Geltique  x,  81.  Rhys  also  claims  the  same 
trait  for  the  Welsh  Caer  Sidi  (see  Skene,  Four  Ancient  Books,  I, 
264-266,  276).  For  other  analogues  in  folklore  and  story,  see  Sy- 
pherd, pp.  166  ff.,  173  ff. 

On  Lajamon's  reference,  w.  22736  ff.,  to  Arthur's  feast  at  Yuletide 
and  to  the  seating  of  the  knights:  al  turne  abute,  that  nan  ne  beon 
toify'te,    see   the   suggestion   of   Miss    Weston    (Melanges    Wilmotte, 


9]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  27 

of  Repanse  de  Schoye,  sister  of  the  Fisher  King.  Thereupon 
he  is  invited  into  the  presence  of  the  host.  ' 

(6)       Si  giengen  uf  ein  palas. 

hundert  krone  da  gehangen  was, 

vil   kerzen   druf  gestozen, 

ob   den   husgenozen, 

kleine  kerzen  umbe  an  der  want. 

hundert  pette  er  ligen  vant 

(daz   schuofen   dies   da   pfl&gen)  : 

hundert   kulter   drfiffe    lagen, 

Ie  vier  gesellen  sundersiz: 

da  enzwischen   was  ein   underviz, 

derfiir  ein  teppich  sinewel. 

fil  lu  roy  Frimutel 

mohte  wol  geleisten  daz.     [Martin,   §  229,  23  ff.] 

One  thing  is  of  great  importance: 

(c)       mit  marmel  was  gemuret 
dri  vierekke   fiwerrame: 
dar  ilffe  was  des  fiwers  name, 
holz  hiez   Iign   aloe\ 

So  great  a  fire  was  never  seen  at  Wildenberc  (see  Martin  n, 
213).     The  host  has  himself  placed 

gein  der   mitteln   fiwerstat 
uf  ein   spanbette. 
ez  was   worden   wette 
zwischen    im    und   der    vroude. 

P.  sits  beside  him.  The  fire  had  been  made  because  of  the 
host's  illness;  to  keep  warm  he  also  wore  a  sable  fur,  with  a 
mantle  over  it;  of  sable  too  was  his  cap  upon  which  shone 

ein  durchliuhtic  rubin.15 
Amid  lamentations  the  lance  is  then  carried  by. 

deprint,  1910,  p.  7).  But  Lajamon's  point  is  that  the  circular  seat- 
ing places  the  knights  on  a  plane  of  equality;  cf.  A.  C.  L.  Brown, 
Harvard  Studies  and  Notes,  vn,  186. 

uCi.    above,    Hous   of   Fame,   vv.    1360-1367;    and    Zarncke,    Der 


28  NITZE  [10 

(/)  Thereupon  two  maidens  in  red  follow  with  candle- 
sticks and  a  herzogin  u.  ir  gespil  bring  two  stands  of  ivory, 
upon  which  others  in  green  place  a  slab  of  hyacinth — grdndt 
jachant — as  a  table-top.  Upon  this  [cf.  Martin,  11,  218] 
Eepanse  de  Schoye  places  the  grail.  Tables  are  set  before 
the  knights  in  the  hall: 

fiir  werder  rtter  viere. 

[Martin,  Z.  c,  estimates  that  1200  persons  were  present]. 
The  grail  provides  whatever  food  is  desired: 

swa  nach  jener  b6t  die  hant; 
daz  er  al  bereite  vant 
splse  warm,  spise  kalt, 
sptse  niwe  unt  dar  zuo  alt, 
daz   zam   unt   daz  wilde. 

swa  nach  den  napf  iesltcher  b6t, 

Graltempel  in  Sachs.  Gesell.  d.  Wissensch.  vn  (1876),  p.  484: 
"  Rubin,  eine  Abart  des  Karfunkel,  vgl.  Alb.  Magn.  in  Mus.  2, 
62  fg. :  Carbunculus,  qui  Grceca  antrax  et  a  nonnullis  rubinus  voca- 
tur."  On  the  carbuncle,  see  ibid.,  p.  485;  it  is  thus  described  in 
the  Palace  of  Prester  John:  una  quaeque  columpna  in  suo  cacumine 
habet  unum  carbunculum  adeo  magnum,  ut  est  magna  amphora, 
quibus  illuminatur  palatium,  ut  mundus  illuminatur  a  sole.  Tanta 
est  namque  claritas,  ut  nichil  tam  exiguum  tarn  subtile  possit 
excogitari,  si  in  pavimento  esset,  quin  posset  intueri.  Also,  Roman 
de  Thebes,  ed.  Constans,  v.  634 ;  P.  Meyer,  Girart  de  Roussillon,  Paris, 
1884,  p.  25,  note;  Hertz,  Parzival,2  526;  Bel  Inconnu,  ed.  Hippeau, 
v.   1879;   the  lit  merveilleux  in  the  Perceval,  w.  7666  ff. 

A  chascun  des  quepouz  del  lit 
Ot    un    escharbocle   tferm<S, 
Qui  gitoient  molt  grant  clarte, 
Molt  plus  que  quatre  cierge  espris; 

and  Pannier,  Les  lapidaires  francais,  Paris,  1882,  p.  52.  Finally, 
below,  p.  16,  the  carbuncles  at  Tara.  Crestien  says  of  Fenice's 
beauty  in  Cliges,  w.  2749  ff. 

Et  la  luors  de  sa  Haute1 
Rant  el  pales  plus  grant  clarte" 
Ne  feissent  quatre  escharboucle. 


11]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  29 

swaz   er   trinkens   kunde   nennen, 
daz  mohte  er  drinne  erkennen 
allez  von  des  grales  kraft. 

The  sword  presentation  then  follows: 
sin  gehilze  was  ein  rubtn.1* 

Parzival  retires,  accompanied,17  to  a  room,  which  in  the 
morning  he  finds  deserted.  He  calls  but  receives  no  answer; 
at  the  steps  his  horse  awaits  him.  As  he  rides  forth  the 
drawbridge  is  raised  by  an  unseen  hand  and  a  squire  shouts 
a  reproach  after  him. 

Further  on,  §  469,  Wolfram  describes  the  grail  in  detail : 

Si   lebent  von   einem  steine: 
des  geslahte  ist  vil  reine. 


er  heizet  lapsit  exillls. 


14  On  the  rubin  see  note,  above  p.  9.  In  Perlesvaus,  Pot.  I,  75, 
the  sword  is  as  clere  comme  une  esmeraude  et  autresint  vert,  cf. 
Crestien's  Yvain,  vv.  424  if.,  and  my  note  in  Modem  Philology,  vil 
(1909),  p.  149;  in  the  hilt  of  the  sword  there  is  a  seintime  pierre, 
set  by  Enax,  emperor  of  Rome. 

"Parzival,  §  243,  21: 

dar  nach  gienc  d6  zer  tiir  dar  In 
vier   clare   juncf rouwen ; 
§  244,  5: 

daz  begunde  ir  ougen  suezen, 
§  si  enpfiengen  sin  gruezen. 
ouch  fuogten  in  gedanke  n6t, 
daz  im  sin  munt  was  sS  rSt,  etc. 

Perhaps  Wolfram  has  in  mind  a  frequent  otherworld  trait;  cf. 
the  Mabinogi  Ptcyll,  Loth  i,  33,  where  the  same  restraint  is  shown: 
"  Lorsque  le  moment  du  sommeil  fut  arrive1,  la  reine  et  lui  allerent 
se  coucher.  AussitOt  qu'  ils  furent  au  lit,  il  lui  tourna  le  dos  et 
resta  le  visage  fixe"  vers  le  bords  du  lit,  sans  lui  dire  un  seul  mot 
jusqu'  au  matin."  The  same  theme  occurs  in  Sir  Oawayne  and  the 
Green  Knight,  w.   1228  ff. 

■  A  summary  of  the  explanations  offered  for  these  words  is  given 


30  NITZE  [12 

Such  strength  does  it  give  man 

daz  im  fleisch  unde  bein 
jugent  enpfacht  al   sunder   twal. 

Architecturally  the  most  striking  feature  in  the  above  de- 
scriptions is  the  fireplace19  or  fireplaces  (c),  for  in  Wolfram 

by  Martin  n,  359-360.  Variants  of  lapsit  are  lapis  and  iaspis; 
on  the  latter  see  also  the  Younger  Titurel,  str.  6172,  and  Pannier, 
Lapidaires  francais,   Paris,   1882,   pp.   39  ff. 

Ome  maintient  bien  e  conforte; 
E    ki   la   garde   chastement 
Mult  li  fist  grant  seiirement. 

Also  J.   L.   Weston,  Legend  of  Sir  Perceval,  II,  313  ff. 

19 The  passage  describing  the  fireplace  (not  its  location)  is  not 
entirely  clear.  Crestien,  v.  3055,  says  the  fire  was  between  four 
columns  (but  perhaps  the  real  subject  is  busche;  then,  however, 
qui  and  not  e  would  be  expected).     In  v.  3061  he  continues: 

Les  colomes  forz  i  estoient 
Qui  le  cheminal  sostenoient 
D'  arain  espes  e  haut  e  16. 

The  last  line  I  take  to  refer  to  colomes. 

The  word  cheminal  is  not  given  in  Baist's  glossary;  but  Godefroy 
gives  chenet  as  its  meaning.  Are  we  then  to  suppose  that  it  was 
a  kind  of  landier,  of  the  primitive  type  mentioned  by  R.  Meringer, 
ZRP.  xxx    (1906),  pp.  414  ff?     He  says:   "  Er    (der  Feuerbock)    ist 

ein  Gerat  des  alten  offenen  Herdes  und  hat  dort  v  i  e  r  Beine 

Er  erscheint  ausserhalb  Italiens  bei  Ronianen,  Kelten  und  Ger- 
manen.  ...  In  England  ist  er,  wie  in  alien  Kaminlandern  meist 
dreibeinig.  Er  kommt  aber  auch  vierbeinig  vor,  wie  z.  B.  das  riesige 
Exemplar  in  der  Great  Hall  zu  Penhurst  (Kent),  das  Wright,  A 
history  of  English  culture  S.  450  Fig.  290  zeigt.  Dieser  Feuerbock 
steht  auch  keineswegs  in  einem  Kamine,  sondern  auf  den  Fliesen, 
auf  einem  mit  Steinen  umstellten  Platze,  in  der  Mitte  der  Halle. 
Nach  seiner  Grosse  zu  urteilen,  konnte  man  auf  ihm  ein  morderisches 
Feuer  entbrennen." 

If  now  we  turn  to  Wolfram  we  find  that  he  says  §  230,  8  ff. : 

mit  marmel  was  gemflret 
drl  vierreke  fiwerrame. 


13]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  31 

there  are  three,  in  the  center  of  the  hall.  The  text-commen- 
tators in  general  have  passed  over  the  matter  without  remark. 
Schultz  20  and  Heyne,21  however,  were  both  struck  with  the 
incongruity  of  this  feature  in  a  feudal  castle  of  Crestien's  or 
Wolfram's  time.  Says  Schultz :  "  Vielleicht  handelte  es  sich 
[in  Wolfram]  um  freistehende  Kamine,  deren  Eauchmantel 
von  vier  durch  Bogen  verbundene  Saulchen  getragen  wurde. 
Es  ist  mir  zwar  kein  derartiges  Monument  bekannt,  aber  die 
Beschreibung  welche  Chrestien  de  Trois  von  solchen  Kamin 
entwirft,  scheint  unzweifelhaft  in  der  von  mir  versuchten 
Weise  zu  erganzen  zu  sein."     Heyne,  more  sceptical,  admits 

Martin  n,  213  remarks:  "  st.  f.  '  Feuerbehalter '  nur  hier  belegt; 
nhd.  bei  Moser  =  Rauchfang  DWb  8,  66.  rame  st.  f .  der  hblzerne 
Rahmen  zum  Flechten,  Weben  und  Sticken;  iiberhaupt  Gestell  zum 
Spannen." 

Ducange,  s.  v.  caminale  gives  chenet;  ef.  Godefroy. 

As  for  Meringer's  reference  to  "  Wright,  A  history  of  English  culture 
S.  450  Fig.  290"  (London,  1874),  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  a  copy 
of  this  work.  There  is,  however,  an  earlier  edition  (1871)  of  the  same, 
entitled  Homes  of  Other  Days,  where  the  fireplace  at  Penshurst  is 
described  (p.  450)  with  an  accompanying  cut  of  the  firedog  (fig. 
290 ) .  A  glance  at  this  cut  will  convince  anyone  that  Crestien 
could  not  have  had  a  similarly  constructed  firedog  in  mind  in 
describing  his  cheminal  supported  by  4  columns,  d'  arain  espes 
e  haut  e  U.  The  exact  form  (and  perhaps  the  meaning)  of  chemi- 
nal in   this  passage   I   therefore   leave  to  others  to  explain. 

In  the  meantime,  we  may  conclude,  I  think,  that  Crestien  and 
Wolfram  referred  respectively  to  a  primitive  fireplace  or  hearth 
(cf.  Ward,  I.  c,  for  examples)  open  on  four  sides,  the  smoke  from 
which  passed  out  of  the  house  by  an  opening  (later  called  a  louvre) 
in  the  arched  roof;  granting  always  the  possibility  of  Schultz's 
suggestion  that  cheminal  in  Crestien  =  cheminee,  an  interpretation 
which  is,  however,  not  supported  by  the  other  Old  French  examples 
of  the  word,  all  of  which  to  be  sure  are  relatively  late.  Cf.  also 
Diez,8  788;  and  on  landier,  see  further  Viollet-le-  Due,  Die.  du  Mob. 
I,  145,  148 ;  Horning,  ZRP.  xix,  527  ff .  On  Penshurst,  see  below, 
note  25. 

20  Das  hbfische  Leben  zur  zeit  der  Minnesinger  I,  59. 

21  Das  deutsche  Wohnungswesen,  Leipzig,   1899,  p.  387. 


32  NITZE  [14 

frankly :  "  Ob  aber  ein  dreif acher  Kamin  von  Marmor  in 
einem  Palas  der  Wirklichkeit  entspricht,  wie  ihn  Wolfram  v. 
Eschenbach  beschreibt,  in  welchem  Aloeholz  brennt  und  vor 
dessen  mittlerer  Feuerstall  der  Wirt  selbst  auf  einem  Spann- 
bett  Platz  nimmt,  das  muss  dahin  gestellt  bleiben."  The 
plan  of  the  monastery  of  St.  Gall  preserved  in  the  Vocabu- 
larius  S.  Galli  of  the  seventh  century  22  is  generally  cited  as 
an  example — a  late  one — of  a  hall  and  house  constructed 
about  a  central  fireplace.  But  as  St.  Gall  came  from  Ireland 
and  settled  in  the  place  which  bears  his  name  in  672,  it  is 
probable  that  the  plan  outlined  in  the  Vocabularius  repre- 
sents Irish  rather  than  continental  traditions.  In  any  case, 
it  is  conceded  that  long  before  Crestien's  time,  the  fireplace 
in  continental  stone  buildings  had  been  moved  to  the  outer 
wall,  where  it  is  regularly  found  in  the  feudal  castles  of  the 
twelfth  century.23  Thus  Crestien's  palace  scarcely  had  a  con- 
temporary basis  of  reality.  In  Arthurian  literature  the  only 
other  clear  instance  of  a  fireplace  so  placed  that  I  have  found 
is  in  the  late  (fourteenth  century)  Libeaus  Desconnus.2i 
There  the  hero  discovers  in  the  palace  at  Sinadoun : 

"Heyne,  op.  cit.,  119,  387;  also  R.  Henning,  Das  Deutsche  Haus 
in  Quellen  u.  Forsch.,  xlvii    (1882),  pp.  142  flf. 

28  Cf.  Viollet-le-Due,  Dictionnaire  d'architecture,  in,  195  ff.,  and 
Heyne,  op.  cit.,  387. 

24  Ed.  Kaluza,  Alteng.  Bibl.,  v.  Libeaus  rides  right  into  the  palace, 
as  Yvain  does  in  Crestien's  Yvain,  w.  963  ff.  ( Foerster's  elaborate 
note  is  unnecessary  the  moment  we  think  of  the  Irish  hall,  see 
below).  The  pillars  and  the  wall  are  of  jasper  and  fyn  crystall, 
v.  1894;  the  doors  of  bras,  the  windows  of  glas,  and  the  hall  is 
painted  with  images. 

In  Syr  Gawayne  and  the  Green  Knight,  ed.  R.  Morris, 


ber  fayre  fyre  vpon  net  fersly  brenned 


v.  832 


in  the  hall,  presumably  also  in  the  center.  Moreover,  the  castle 
appears  suddenly  to  Gawain,  on  Christmas  eve,  on  a  mound.  Like 
Wolfram's  castle  the  drawbridge  is  lowered  only  at  his  bidding, 
and  the  "  full  noble "  feast  is   served  on  tables  set  on  trestles  in 


15]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GKAIL  33 

Amiddle   be   halle   flore 

A  fere  stark  und  store 

was    lijt    und    brende    brijt. 

w.    1867-1869. 

But  this  example  is  also  from  an  otherworld  description  in 
Arthurian  literature,  and  interesting  as  it  is  as  a  piece  of 
tradition,  was  hardly  taken  direct 25  from  local  conditions. 
Thus  we  are  justified  in  looking  elsewhere  for  the  origin  of 
this  curious  trait. 

Now  it  is  well  known  that  the  Irish  heroic  saga  always 
places  the  fireplace  in  the  center  of  the  hall,  which  is  gener- 
ally rectangular  in  shape,  though  the  earlier  form  was 
probably  circular.     So,   Dottin   says,26   "les  maisons  et  les 

front  of  the  chemne,  Mer  charcole  brenned,  v.  875.  Beside  the  host 
two  ladies,  the  one  fair,  the  other  yellow  and  rough,  dwell  in  the 
castle,  which  is  "  huge "  in  height,  with  battlements  and  watch- 
towers.     See,  also,  The  Turke  and  Qowin,  ed.  Madden,  w.  198-203: 

Then  there  stood  amongst  them  all 
a  chimney   in   they  Kings  hall 
with  barres  mickle  of  pride; 
there  was  laid  on  in  that  stond 
coales  &  wood  that  cost  a  pound 
that  vpon  it  did  abide. 

35  A  possibility  exists,  however,  in  the  case  of  the  Libeaus  Descon- 
nus,  which  was  probably  written  in  Kent,  that  its  author  was 
acquainted  with  Penshurst  Place  or  Manor,  now  belonging  to  Lord  De 
LTsle,  but  once  the  home  of  the  Sidneys.  Penshurst  lies  in  Kent  and 
was  presumably  built  about  1341.  The  hall  is  known  among  archi- 
tects by  the  fact  that  its  center  is  occupied  by  the  hearth,  "  over 
which  there  was  at  an  earlier  period  an  opening  in  the  roof,  having  a 
small  ornamented  turret  to  cover  it  called  a  smoke  louvre."  Cf. 
Elizabeth  Balch,  Glimpses  of  Old  English  Homes,  London,  1890,  p. 
6;  Thomas  Wright,  I.  c;  Enlart,  Histoire  de  I'Art,  II,  344.  A  similar 
louvre  is  extant  in  the  well-known  Abbott's  Kitchen,  completed  in 
1333-1341,  at  Glastonbury.     But  this  is  offered  only  as  a  suggestion. 

Likewise,  to  infer  that  Crestien  and  Wolfram  had  in  mind  an 
actual  English  building    (hall)    seems  to  me  unreasonable. 

M  Manuel  pour  servir  a  V6tude  de  Vantiquitd  celtique,  Paris,  1906, 
p.   120. 

3 


34  NITZE  [16 

palais  des  Irlandais  de  l'epopee  semblent  avoir  ete  circulaires 
comme  les  rotondes  gauloises  dont  parle  Strabon.  Le  feu 
etait  au  milieu.  II  n'  y  avoit  qu'  une  porte.  Les  couches 
etaient  tout  a  l'entour  de  la  chambre,  d'  un  cote  de  la  porte 
a  l'autre."  To  be  sure,  the  primitive  Germanic  house  was 
also  built  about  the  locus  foci.27  But  there  is  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  Crestien  had  access  here  to  primitive  Germanic 
traditions  inasmuch  as  the  fireplace  constitutes  only  one  of 
many  resemblances  between  the  Perceval  and  the  Irish  texts. 
In  the  Fled  Bricrend28  the  main  portion  of  which  29  "  was 
current  in  Erin  during  the  last  quarter  of  the  ninth  century/' 
Briciu's  house  is  as  follows : 

"  The  house  was  made  on  this  wise :  on  the  plan  of  Tara's 
Mead-Hall,  having  nine  compartments  from  fire  to  wall,  each 
fronting  thirty  feet  high,  overlaid  with  gold.  In  the  fore 
part  of  the  palace  a  royal  couch  was  erected  for  Conchobar 
high  above  those  of  the  whole  house.  It  was  set  with  car- 
buncles and  other  precious  stones  which  shone  with  a  lustre 
of  gold  and  silver,  radiant  with  every  hue,  making  night  like 
unto  day.  Around  it  were  placed  the  twelve  couches  of  the 
twelve  heroes  of  Ulster." 

The  Mead  Hall  at  Tara,  to  which  the  above  text  refers,  was 
also  known  as  Long  nam  Ban,  and  is  said  to  have  held  a 
thousand  soldiers,  "  the  choice  part  of  the  men  of  Erin." 

27  Cf.  Moritz  Heyne,  Ueber  Lage  u.  Construction  der  Halle  Heerot 
im  angelsach.  Beoiculfsliede,  Halle,  1864;  G.  T.  Files,  Anglo-Saxon 
House,  Leipzig,  1893;  Paul's  Grundriss,2  III,  433,  §  18.  Brown, 
Harv.  Studies  and  Notes,  vn,  197,  suggests  (rightly,  I  think)  that 
the  circular  seating  arrangement  in  the  Irish  house  "  points  back 
to  the  more  primitive  round  wattle  house,  being  totally  unlike  the 
Germanic   arrangement."     See,   also,  above. 

28  As  the  most  important  general  reference  for  the  following  pages 
I  cite  Sullivan's  Introduction,  ccxcvi  ff .  of  O'Curry's  Manners  and 
Customs   of   the  Ancient   Irish,    1873,   vol.   I. 

"Fled  Bricrend,  ed.  J.  Henderson,  Irish  Texts  Soc.  n,  1899,  p. 
xliv.  Cf.  also  R.  Thurneysen,  Sagen  aus  dem  alten  Irland,  Berlin, 
1901,  pp.  26-28. 


17]  THE  CASTLE  OF  THE  GRAIL  35 

Petrie  30  gives  the  following  description  of  it '.  u  In  the  ground- 
plan  of  Tech  Midchuarta  the  house  is  shown  as  divided  into 
five  divisions,  which  are  again  subdivided  into  several  others. 
Each  of  the  two  divisions  extending  along  the  side  walls  is 
shown  as  subdivided  into  twelve  imdas  [according  to  Thur- 
neysen  31  =  "  Pritsche,"  i.  e.,  a  couch],  which  here  means 
'  seats  ' ;  each  of  two  divisions  adjoining  them  into  eight ;  and 
the  central  division  is  represented  as  containing  three  fires  3Z 
at  equal  distances,  a  vat,  a  chandelier,  and  an  erlarcaich, 
besides  two  compartments  on  each  side  of  the  door  and  three 
in  the  other  extremity  of  the  house  opposite  the  door,  occu- 
pied by  the  distributors,  cup-bearers,  and  reachtaires." 33 
The  banqueting-house  was  "  an  oblong  structure,  having  its 
lower  end  to  the  north  and  higher  end  to  the  south,  with 
walls  to  east  and  west.  In  these  walls,  according  to  the  prose 
accounts,34  there  were  twelve  or  fourteen  doors,  six  or  seven 

80  On  the  History  and  Antiquities  of  Tara  Hill,  Trans.  Roy.  Ir. 
Acad,  xvin,  1838,  p.   197. 

31  Op.  cit.,  26.  Thumeysen  remarks :  "  In  der  Mitte  des  Hauses 
ist  die  Feuerstelle  in  einem  freien  Raum,  der  hochstens  noch  den 
Platz  ftt-r  den  Fiirsten  umschliesset  (so  in  Alills  Palast,  Theil  II). 
Ringsum  laufen  die  Pritschen,  wie  ich  das  irische  Wort  "  imda " 
am  richtigsten  wiederzugeben  glaube,  wenn  auch  bei  den  hier  ge- 
schilderten  Prachtexemplaren  die  der  Mitte  des  Hauses  zuge- 
wendeten  Seiten  nicht  aus  Holz,  sondern  aus  Bronze  bestehen. 
Auf  sie  werden  Decken  u.  Polster  gebreitet,  u.  darauf  setzen  sich 
je  einer  oder  mehrere  Festteilnehmer.  Nachts  oder  bei  Krankheit 
dienen  die  Pritschen  als  Betten." 

32  The  italics  are  mine,  cf .  Wolfram. 

"A  house-steward,  according  to  Sullivan,  p.  ccli. 

34  Cf.  Keating,  History  of  Ireland,  1857,  p.  333;  in  Cormac's  time 
Midchuarta  "  was  three  hundred  feet  in  length,  and  thirty  cubits 
in  height,  and,  in  breadth,  it  was  fifty  cubits.  In  it  there  was  a 
flaming  lamp,  and  it  was  entered  by  fourteen  doors.  It  contained 
one  hundred  and  fifty  beds,  besides  Cormac's  own.  One  hundred 
and  fifty  warriors  stood  in  the  king's  presence  when  he  sat  down  to 
the  banquet.  There  were  one  hundred  and  fifty  cup-bearers  in  wait- 
ing; and  the  hall  was  provided  with  one  hundred  and  fifty  jewelled 
cups  of  silver  and  gold.  Fifty  over  one  thousand  was  the  number 
of  the  entire  household."     Cf.  Irish  Texts  Soc,  vin,  305. 


36  NITZE  [18 

on  each  side."  Of  interest  here  too  is  Ailill's  palace,  of  which 
the  Fled  has  the  following  account.35 

"  Thereupon  the  Ultonians  come  into  the  fort  and  the 
palace  is  left  to  them  as  recounted,  viz.,  seven  "  circles " 
(Rundgange  waren  darin)  and  seven  compartments  (Prit- 
schen)  from  fire  to  partition  (Wand),  with  bronze  frontings 
and  carvings  of  red  yew.  Three  stripes  of  bronze  in  the 
arching  of  the  house,  which  was  of  oak,  with  a  covering  of 
shingles  (an  der  Stirnseite  des  Hauses  drei  Bronzesaulen. 
Das  Haus  selber  von  Eichenholz,  etc.).  It  had  twelve  win- 
dows with  glass  in  the  openings.  The  dais  of  Ailill  and  of 
Meve  in  the  centre  of  the  house,  with  silver  frontings  and 
stripes  of  bronze  round  it,  with  a  silver  wand  by  the  fronting 
facing  Ailill,  that  would  reach  the  mid  "  tips  "  of  the  house 
(den  Querbalken  des  Hauses)   so  as  to  check  the  inmates 

unceasingly Such  was  the  spaciousness  of  the  house 

that  it  had  room  for  the  hosts  of  valiant  heroes  of  the  whole 
province  in  the  suite  of  Conchobar." 

Finally,  the  Royal  House  at  Emain  Macha  in  the  Tochmar 
Emere  36  or  Wooing  of  Emer  is  similarly  arranged.     "  There 

35  Henderson,  p.  69;  Thurneysen,  p.  43.  I  give  Thurneysen's 
variants  in  brackets.  See  also  the  slightly  varying  account  in  Sulli- 
van, p.   dcxli,   addenda. 

86  From  the  Irish  ms.  Lebor  na  h-Uidre,  see  Kuno  Meyer,  Revue 
Celt,  xi,  446;  Zeit.  f.  Celt.  Philologie,  in,  248.  I  quote  from  the 
modernized  version  of  Lady  Gregory,  Cuchulain  of  Muirthemne,  New 
York,  1903,  pp.  43  ff.  On  Welsh  territory  the  story  of  Pwyll  (see 
Loth  I,  33)  preserves  essentially  the  Irish  arrangement  (as  Pro- 
fessor Manly  reminds  me):  "  Aussitdt  qu'  il  [Pwyll]  entra  dans 
la  salle,  des  ecuyers  et  de  jeunes  valets  accoururent  pour  le  desarmer. 
Chacun  d'  eux  le  saluait  en  arrivant.  Deux  chevaliers  vinrent  le 
d6barrasser  de  son  habit  de  chasse  et  le  rev§tir  d'  un  habit  or  de 
paile.  La  salle  fut  prgparee;  il  vit  entrer  la  famille,  la  suite,  la 
plus  belle  et  la  mieux  equipee  qui  se  fut  jamais  vue,  et  avec  eux  la 
reine,  la  plus  belle  femme  du  monde,  v6tue  d'  un  habit  d'  or  de 
paile  lustree;  apres  s'  6tre  lav6s,  lis  se  mirent  a  table:  la  reine  d'  un 
c6t6  de  Pwyll,  le  comte,  ft  ce  qu'  il  supposait,  de  l'autre.     lis  eurent 


19]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  37 

were  three  times  fifty  rooms,  and  the  walls  were  made  of  red 
yew,  with  copper  rivets.  And  Conchubar's  own  room  was 
on  the  ground,  and  the  walls  of  it  faced  with  bronze,  and 
silver  up  above,  with  gold  birds  on  it,  and  their  heads  set 
with  shining  carbuncles;  and  there  were  nine  partitions  from 
the  fire  to  the  wall,  and  thirty  feet  the  height  of  each  parti- 
tion. And  there  was  a  silver  rod  before  Conchubar  with 
three  golden  apples  on  it,  and  when  he  shook  the  rod  or 
struck  it,  all  the  house  would  be  silent."  37 

Summarizing  the  various  accounts  Sullivan 38  brings  out 
the  following  points: 

(1)  When  the  house  was  oblong,  it  was  divided  roughly 
into  three  parts  by  two  rows  of  pillars  which  supported  the 
roof. 

(2)  The  fire  was  placed  in  the  central  division,  which  was 
the  largest — about  two-thirds  of  its  whole  length;  the  can- 
delabrum being  placed  between  the  fire  and  the  door,  and 
generally  toward  the  middle  of  the  house.  One  of  the  essen- 
tial articles  of  furniture  in  the  house  of  a  Bo  Aire  39  (i.  e.,  a 
freeman  who  possessed  cows  and  other  chattels)  was  "  a 
candle  upon  a  candlestick."  40  In  round  houses  the  fire  was 
near  the  center. 

a  souhait  mets,  boisson,  musique,  compotation ;  c'6tait  bien  de  toutes 
les  cours  qu'  il  avait  vues  au  monde,  la  mieux  pourvue  de  nourri- 
ture,  de  boissons,  de  vaisselle  d'or  et  de  bijoux  royaux." 

OT  Thid  is  evidently  the  motif  of  dumbness.  Cf .  Nutt,  Studies, 
p.  76.  In  the  Mabinogi  of  Branwen,  Loth  I,  89,  the  warriors  cast 
into  the  cauldron  of  renovation  come  forth  restored  except  that 
they  could  not  speak.  So  in  the  Queste,  Williams  ed.,  p.  442,  the 
Grail  strikes  the  beholders  dumb:  "every  one  looked  at  each  other, 
and  there  was  not  one  that  could  say  a  single  word."  Later,  they 
recover  their  speech.  In  Perlesvaus,  Pot.  i,  87-89,  Gawain  falls  into 
a  revery  at  the  appearance  of  the  Grail,  in  Wauchier  and  the  Crdne 
he  falls  asleep.  The  music  of  the  Tuatha,  as  Brown  observes,  PMLA. 
xxv,   16  note,  induced  to  sleep. 

w  Pp.  cccxlvi  ff.  w  Sullivan,  p.  cccliii. 

'•From  the  Crith  Gablach   (law-tract)   n,  p.  486. 


38  xitze  [20 

(3)  The  narrow  divisions  at  each  side  of  the  central  hall 
were  occupied  by  the  imdas,  which  formed  recesses  between 
the  pillars.  In  the  circular  houses  the  imdas  went  around 
the  room  from  one  side  of  the  door  to  the  other.  Their 
number  seems  to  have  depended  upon  the  rank  of  the  owner 
of  the  house. 

(4)  The  seat  of  the  chief  of  the  household  was  about  two- 
thirds  of  the  way  from  the  door — near  the  hearth.  In  round 
houses  it  was  apparently  behind  the  fire  and  fronting  the 
door.  The  queen  occupied  a  place  near  the  king,  the  cham- 
pion's seat  was  near  him  also.41 

(5)  The  imdas,  used  both  as  couches  and  beds,  were  pro- 
vided with  feather  beds  and  with  pillows  stuffed  with  feathers. 

(6)  There  were  also  benches  of  a  lower  order:  these  were 
doubtless  occupied  by  the  lower  officers  of  the  household. 
According  to  the  plans  of  Tara,  two  rows  of  seats  occupied 
the  sides  of  the  central  passage  in  which  the  candelabrum, 
fire  and  ale  vat  were  placed.  One  of  these,  thinks  Sullivan,42 
corresponded  "  to  a  lower  range  of  benches,  on  the  level  of 
the  fire,  upon  which  sat  the  Cerds  or  goldsmiths,  the  black- 
smith, shield-maker,  and  other  artificers  of  the  king." 

(7)  There  seems  to  have  been  but  one  door- way;  at  least 
in  some  of  the  large  banqueting  halls,  as  well  as  in  many, 
if  not  all  the  round  houses.  In  the  famous  Brug  of  Da 
Derga  43  there  were  seven  doorways  but  only  one  door,  which 
was  put  in  the  doorway  at  the  side  from  which  the  wind  blew. 

In  general,  then,  the  Irish  texts  agree  among  themselves 
and  with  Crestien  and  Wolfram  in  describing  a  hall  of  large 
dimensions,  usually  rectangular,  in  which  a  great  number 
of  warriors  could  be  seated  (Crestien  and  Wolfram  both  say 

■  In  the  Welsh  Laws  of  Howel  the  Good,  ed.  Wade-Evans,  1909, 
p.  148,  it  is  said  that  the  seat  of  the  edling  in  the  hall  is  opposite 
to  the  king  about  the  fire  with  him  (a  reference  I  owe  to  Professor 
A.  C.  L.  Brown).  The  chair  in  Caer  Sidi  (Skene,  I,  276)  will  have 
three  utterances,  around  the  fire,  sung  before  it. 

"P.   cccli.  43Cf.   below,  p.    [28,   note. 


21]  THE  CASTLE  OF  THE  GRAIL  39 

four  hundred),  in  such  a  way  that  the  king's  place  was  in 
the  centre  on  the  main  dais 44  (imda  or  M.H.G.  pette)  in 
front  of  the  fire,45  while  the  rest  of  the  company  sat  round 
about.  The  arrangement  is  essentially  that  described  by 
Posidonius,46  who  states  with  reference  to  Celtic  feasts :  "  they 
[the  Celts]  sit  in  a  circle  and  the  bravest  sits  in  the  middle 
like  the  leader  of  a  chorus ;  because  he  is  superior  to  the  rest 
either  in  his  military  skill,  or  in  birth,  or  in  riches;  and  the 
man  who  gives  the  entertainment  sits  next  to  him,  and  then 
on  each  side  the  rest  of  the  guests,  according  as  each  is 
eminent  or  distinguished  for  anything." 47  In  addition, 
several  details  in  Crestien  and  Wolfram  are  found  in  the  Irish 
descriptions — such  as  the  fact  that  the  columns  of  Crestien's 
cheminal  are  of  airain  espes  a  haut  e  le;  that  in  Wolfram's 
palace  as  at  Tara  there  are  three  fires  (c)  and  a  numerous 
company  of  attendants,  cupbearers  and  the  like  (/) ;  that  the 
display  of  riches  surpasses  anything  known  to  man  (e) ;  that 
the  grail  like  the  carbuncles  in  Briciu's  house  turns  night 
into  day  (e) ;  that  the  banquet  is  served  before  separate 
couches  or  imdas  (/),  upon  which  the  guest  (cf.  Crestien) 
or  the  host  (cf.  Wolfram)  reposes  during  the  night,  etc. 

The  objective,  material  nature  of  the  traits  compared 
strengthens  the  probability  of  a  definite  Celtic  source  for 
the  Crestien- Wolf  ram  descriptions;  although  a  Latin  inter- 
mediary in  the  form  of  Count  Philip's  book  seems  likely. 
Moreover,  our  evidence  would  indicate  that  the  German  poet 

**  Cf .  above,  p.  [14,  note,  in  Syr  Gawayne  and  the  Green  Knight, 
vv.  832  ff. 

45  O'Curry,  i,  p.  ccclix :  in  the  round  houses  the  royal  seat  was 
behind  the  fire  fronting  the  door. 

**  Carl  Miiller,  Frag.  Hist.  Grcecorum,  Paris,  1849,  in,  260.  Brown, 
see  note  below,  cites  the  Greek  text. 

47  Cf.  the  various  recent  discussions  of  the  Round  Table:  A.  C.  L. 
Brown,  Harv.  Studies  and  Notes,  vil,  pp.  183-205;  Lewis  F.  Mott, 
PMLA.  xx,  260;  J.  L.  Weston,  Melanges  Wilmotte,  reprint,  Paris, 
1910. 


40  NITZE  [22 

followed  the  Celtic  description  more  faithfully  than  Crestien, 
since  many  of  his  details  agree  with  the  Celtic  sources  as 
against  the  French  Perceval.  The  fireplaces  are  three;  the 
tables  are  placed  before  each  couch  (fur  werder  riter  viere) 
so  that  the  general  nature  of  the  feast  is  preserved,  while  in 
Crestien  only  that  part  of  it  is  mentioned  which  affects  the 
hero  himself;  accordingly,  too,  Wolfram  emphasizes  the  large 
number  of  attendants,  their  gorgeous  apparel,  etc.,  and  takes 
pains  to  explain  the  miraculous  origin  of  the  abundant  food 
and  drink.  So,  also,  the  emphatic  mention  he  makes  of  the 
chandeliers  (hundert  krone)  may  be  significant.48  Without 
entering  into  the  moot  problem  of  Wolfram's  general  rela- 
tionship to  Crestien,  it  may  at  least  be  said  that  for  the  grail 
episode  he  drew  on  a  more  specific  account  than  that  found 
in  the  published  versions  of  Crestien's  poem.  To  assume 
that  his  fertile  imagination  is  responsible  alone  for  the  above 
details  would  imply  that  the  poet  had  unconsciously  created 
out  of  Crestien's  rationalized  version  a  more  primitive  Celtic 
description.  Against  this  we  have  Wolfram's  own  assertion 
as  to  another  more  authentic  story.49  The  fact  that  it  is 
attributed  to  the  fabulous  Kiot  need  not  disturb  us  since 
Wilhelm  50  has  recently  pointed  out  similar  methods  in  late 
classical  writers.  To  the  mediaeval  mind  history  and  fable, 
or  let  us  say  tradition,  were  one  and  the  same  thing.  Thus 
the  name  Kiot  could  stand  for  the  various  currents  of  narra- 
tive, no  matter  what  their  origin  was,  which  constituted  Wol- 
fram's literary  baggage.  Nor  should  we  forget  that  Wolfram 
had  not  enjoyed  a  school  education.  He  affirms  that  he  could 
neither  read  nor  write ;  "  swaz  an  den  buochen  stet  geschri- 
ben,"  he  says,51  "  des  bin  ich  kunstelos  " ;  what  he  knew  he 
had  gathered  by  word  of  mouth.     All  the  more  reason,  there- 

48  Compare  these  details  with  those  recorded  below,  p.  29]. 
"Parzival,  §  827. 

**Ueber  fabulistische  Quellenangaben  in  Beitrage  xxxm    (1908), 
286  ff. 

"Parzival,  §  115,  27  ff. 


23]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  41 

fore,  to  believe  that  in  addition  to  the  Perceval  he  had  heard 
another  more  specific  account  of  the  grail  festival:  "wie 
Herzeloyden  kint  den  gral  erwarb."  On  the  other  hand,  it 
can  be  shown,  I  believe,  that  Crestien's  tendency  to  rational- 
ize was  due  to  his  national,  French,  impulse  to  strengthen 
his  plot  by  omitting  such  details  as  were  not  essential  to  the 
action  and  yet  did  not  notably  enhance  the  setting.  What- 
ever our  ultimate  conclusion  may  be :  whether  ."Wolfram  drew 
only  on  Crestien,  or  also  on  another  source,  be  it  Count 
Philip's  book  or  some  earlier  or  intermediate  version — the 
final  original  of  both  poets  for  the  grail  episode  was  the  same. 
The  question  as  to  whether  or  not  the  ultimate  source  was 
Irish  seems  to  depend  on  the  correctness  of  the  theory,  ad- 
vanced by  Zimmer  and  Kuno  Meyer,  that  a  pan-Celtic  epic 
never  existed,  and  that  such  similarities  as  these  are  due  to 
borrowing  from  Irish  legendaries.  According  to  our  present 
knowledge  the  grail,  as  such,  was  unknown  to  the  Irish  until 
relatively  late.52  It  would  seem,  moreover,  that  Crestien  is 
responsible  for  the  word  gradl,  which  is  infrequent  in  the 
north  of  France.53  Or  assuming  that  the  word  occurred  in 
the  livre  of  Count  Philip,  Crestien  translated  the  word 
gradalis  or  gradale,  which  may  itself  have  been  a  more  or 
less  free  rendition  of  a  Celtic  word.54     On  the  other  hand, 

**  Cf .  F.  N.  Robinson,  Two  Fragments  of  an  Irish  Romance  of 
the  H.  Grail,  in  Zt.  Celt.  Ph.  iv,  381-393;  W.  I.  Purdon,  A  Note  on 
a  Passage  in  the  Irish  Version  of  the  Grail,  in  Revue  Celt,  xx  (1906) . 

"Baist,  Parzival  u.  der  Gral,  1909,  p.  13:  "  weil  die  zum  An- 
richten  dienende  flache  Schiissel,  die  es  bedeutet,  auf  den  Haushalt 
der  Vornehmen  beschrankt  war " ;  Martin,  ed.  Parzival,  II,  p.  Iv : 
"  graal  aus  mlat.  gradalis  oder  gradale  heist  danach  franzosisch 
cine  breite  und  tiefe  Schiissel,  worin  Vornehmen  kostbare  Mahlzeiten 
vorgesetzt  werden."  Cf.  Helinandus,  Migne,  ccxii,  the  text  is  cited 
in  Nutt,  Studies,  p.  52,  note. 

**  Sullivan,  op.  cit.,  p.  ccclvi,  remarks :  "  In  the  houses  of  the 
higher  classes  Cuachs,  or  cups  of  bronze,  silver  and  even  of  gold, 
were  to  be  found  displayed  on  the  shelves  on  festive  occasions." 
Among  the   larger   vessels   of   yew  were   Milans,   or   large  cups   on 


42  nitze  [24 

a  definite  prototype  for  the  bleeding  lance  has  been  found 
by  Professor  Brown.55  And  as  he  and  others  have  abundantly 
shown,  Irish  and  Welsh  literature  abound  in  the  descriptions 
of  magic  swords  and  caldrons,  which  are  usually  connected 
with  a  mystic  being,  whose  most  prominent  form  is  that  of 
Manannan,56  of  the  race  of  the  Tuatha  De  Danaan.  The 
late  Alfred  Nutt  was  the  first  to  see  clearly  the  importance 
of  this  evidence  for  the  grail  problem.  Following  in  his 
footsteps  I  have  recently  sought  to  draw  closer  the  kinship 
between  Manannan  and  the  Fisher  King.  The  resemblance 
between  the  talismans  of  the  Tuatha  De  Danaan  and  those  of 
the  grail  castle  has  been  elaborated  by  Brown,57  whose  evi- 
dence is  further  strengthened  by  a  comparison  of  Gerbert's 
account  of  the  Siege  Perilous  with  the  Lia  Fail  or  Stone  of 
Destiny,58   both   of  which   announce   by   a  cry    (brait)    the 

a  foot,  Cilorns,  or  pitchers  with  handles.  Curns,  or  horns  of  ox- 
horn,  were  much  used  for  drinking  ale — these  were  frequently 
mounted  in  silver  and  set  with  gems.  Cf.  the  cup  of  bronze  (Cuach 
Creduma)  with  a  bird  chased  in  white  metal  at  its  bottom,  assigned 
to  Loigaire  the  Triumphant  in  the  Fled,  ed.  Henderson,  §  59;  also 
the  cup  of  gold  given  Cuchulainn,  §  62.  The  Irish  for  '  caldron '  is 
coire;  cf.  Fled,  p.  10,  coire  an  Daghdha,  and  O'Curry,  Lectures  on 
the  Manuscript  Materials,   1878,  p.   57,  the  coire  Breacain. 

55  See  his  very  interesting  study  The  Bleeding  Lance,  in  PMLA., 
xxrv   (1910),  1-59. 

64  See  Nutt,  Voyage  of  Bran,  n,  passim;  my  Fisher  King  in 
PMLA.,  XXIV    (1909),   396  ff. 

57  L.  c. 

88  For  Gerbert,  see  Miss  Weston,  Sir  Perceval,  n,  140  (B.  N.  f. 
12576,  fos.  157-158  vo.).  The  Siege  has  been  sent  to  Arthur  by 
the  Fee  de  la  Roche  Menor,  with  the  request  that  it  be  set  on 
the  dais  at  every  high  feast,  and  the  warning  that  only  the 
knight  who  achieves  the  grail  quest  can  safely  occupy  it.  Of 
course  Perceval  seats  himself  in  it,  and  at  once  the  earth  gives 
forth  a  brait,  cleaving  in  all  directions  about  the  seat  but  leaving 
Perceval   unharmed. 

Keating,  History  of  Ireland,  ed.  Comyn,  Irish  Texts  Soc,  I,  207, 
relates  that  the  Lia  Fail  "  used  to  roar  under  each  king  of  Ireland 
6n   his  being  chosen  ....  up  to  the  time  of   Conchubhar,   and   it 


25]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  43 

chosen  hero.  As  to  Baist's  objection  that  there  is  wanting 
"  jeder  besondere  bestimmte  Zug,  der  uns  gestatten  wiirde 
unsere  Schiissel  mit  irgend  einem  der  Wunderkessel  zu  identi- 
fizieren,  die  in  der  keltischen  Mythologie  zu  finden  sind,  wie 
in  jeder  andern/' 59  it  may  be  said  that  the  talismans  of  the 
Tuatha  possess  the  two  specific  attributes  of  effulgence  (e) 
and  life-sustenance  (/)  which  are  characteristic  of  Crestien's 
grail.60  Finally,  the  connection  pointed  out  long  since  by 
Zimmer  61  between  the  Arthurian  festivals  and  the  Irish  com- 
munal gatherings  at  Tara  gains  further  support  from  the  ex- 
ternal resemblance  between  the  arrangement  of  the  Round 
Table,  which  Layamon  62  is  at  such  pains  to  explain  (with 
its  160C  knights)  and  the  Grail  Festival.  v  In  the  light  of  all 

is  to  that  stone  [sic]  is  called  in  Latin  Suxum  fatale."  Cf.  also 
Prose  Perceval  (Modena  MS.),  Weston,  op.  cit.,  n,  21,  "  et  tant 
tost  com  il  fu  assis  li  piere  fendi  desous  lui  et  braist  si  angoisseuse- 
ment  que  li  siecles  fondist  en  abisme,"  etc. 

""Op.  cit.,  p.  18. 

80  Cf.  Nutt,  Studies,  184;  idem,  note  in  Weston's  Sir  Perceval,  II, 
315;  Martin,  Parzival,  n,  p.  lvi;  and  especially  Brown,  PMLA.  xxv 
(1909),  34  ff.  As  noticed  by  Ehrismann,  Marchen  im  hofiscken  Epos 
in  Beitrage,  xxx  (1905),  49,  Wolfram's  idea  tbat  the  grail  cannot 
be  borne  by  an  impure  or  untruthful  person  (Parz.  §§  235,  25; 
809,  9;  477,  15)  is  characteristic  of  Manannan's  cup  in  the  Echtra 
Carmaic;  see  above,  p.  17],  note,  Zimmer,  Haupt's  Ztsch.,  xxxni, 
267 ;  Nutt,  Studies,  194.  Perhaps  the  idea  is  reflected  in  Crestien's 
poem,   V.   6387 : 

Tant  sainte  chose  est  li  graax, 

for   physical   welfare   is   dependent   on   moral   strictures. 

On  the  question  of  indebtedness  Brugger's  observation  also  is 
worth  considering,  Z.  fr.  Spr.,  xxxv  (1909),  55:  "Der  Plan,  das 
Scenario,  ist  die  Hauptquelle,  die  einzelnen  Motive  sind  nur 
Nebenquellen  (die  iibrigen  Motive).  Das  Scenario  wird  wohl  nie 
erfunden.  Man  entnimmt  es  entweder  dem  Leben  oder  der  Ge- 
schichte  oder  Saga  oder  einer  andern  (fast  immer  einfacheren) 
Erziihlung." 

"Gott.  Gelehr.  Anzeigen,  1890,  p.  518. 

"Ed.  Madden,  n,  532. 


44  NTTZE  [26 

this  evidence,  the  practical  identity  of  the  Grail  Palace  with 
the  Celtic  Mead  Hall  shows  to  my  mind  that  Manannan 
and  the  Fisher  King  are  to  all  intents  and  purposes  [origi- 
nally] the  same  person,  though  the  name  roi  pecheur  may 
be  partly  due  to  contamination  with  an  Oriental  source.63     In 

48  The  probability  of  some  Oriental  influence  in  the  West  before 
the  Crusades  must  be  taken  into  consideration  (cf.  Zenker,  Die 
Tristansage  u.  das  persische  Epos  von  Wis  und  Ramin  in  Rom. 
Forsch.,  1910)  ;  see  my  remarks  in  PMLA.,  xxv,  416,  on  the  avenues 
of  syncretism.  Moreover,  the  title  roi  pecheur  as  a  synonym  for 
Manannan  is  implied  rather  than  proved  by  the  daminum  maris 
(filium  maris)  given  the  latter  in  the  Yellow  Bk.  of  Lecan  and 
the  identification  of  the  name  Mananndn  with  the  Menapii  ( "  water- 
men"); see  my  article,  p.  396,  note.  It  is  noteworthy,  too,  as 
Professor  Warren  has  suggested  to  me,  that  Gawain  never  meets  the 
grail-king  fishing;  so  that  this  incident  seems  characteristic  of  the 
Perceval  versions.  A  striking  parallel  to  the  king's  lameness  and 
the  enchantment  of  his  land,  as  well  as  a  plausible  explanation  of 
the  fish  which  he  catches,  is  offered  by  the  tale  of  the  King  of 
the  Black  Islands  from  the  Arabian  Nights — I  owe  to  Professor 
Warren's  kindly  interest  the  knowledge  of  this  fact.  An  outline  of 
the  story  according  to  Chauvin,  Bibliog.  des  ouvrages  arabes,  xi, 
Paris,  1902   (No.  222),  p.  56,  is  as  follows: 

(1)  By  the  aid  of  a  genius  a  fisherman  catches  daily  four  fish 
of  different  colors  which  he  takes  to  the  king  of  the  country.  (2) 
After  being  broiled,  the  fish  are  asked  by  a  beautiful  maid  whether 
they  are  true  to  the  "  agreement."  They  reply  •  yes ' ;  whereupon 
she  chars  them  by  upsetting  the  roaster.  (3)  The  king  then  inter- 
views the  fisherman,  who  conducts  him  to  a  lake  situated  between 
four  mountains.  Although  near  his  city,  the  lake  had  been  unknown 
to  the  king.  (4)  After  two  days  travelling  they  reach  a  black 
palace  which  is  apparently  deserted.  (5)  Led  on,  however,  by 
the  sound  of  groans,  the  king  comes  to  a  room  in  which  a  young 
man,  in  fine  garments,  occupies  a  throne.  He  is  the  king  of  the 
Black  Islands,  and  his  lower  extremities  have  been  petrified  by 
enchantment.  His  subjects  have  been  turned  into  fish.  (6)  This 
misfortune  was  brought  upon  him  by  his  treacherous  wife  who 
loves  a  black  man.  (7)  The  visiting  king  succeeds  in  killing  the 
latter,  and  compels  the  wife  to  remove  her  enchantments  (by  water). 
Then  he  kills  her.     (8)    Ultimately  the  king  of  the  Black  Islands 


27]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  45 

other  words,  the  underlying  concept  which  in  time  became 
the  Legend  of  the  Grail  was  Celtic,  and  not  primarily  Eastern 
or  Christian,  whatever  its  later  history  may  have  been. 

As  to  its  form,  we  should  bear  in  mind  Kuno  Meyer's 
remark :  "  dass  Stoff  u.  Stil  dieser  Sagen  jahrhundert  lang 
fortgepflanzt  worden,  ehe  sie  zur  Aufzeichnung  gelangten, 
geht  u.  a.  daraus  hervor,  dass  sie  fast  durchweg  in  mehreren 
Versionen  auf  uns  gekommen  sind.64  This  multiplicity 
doubtless  stands  in  close  relation  to  the  number  of  grail 
redactions  that  have  been  handed  down;  and  versions  to  all 
outward  appearances  alike  may  well  have  descended  from 
similar  yet  distinct  originals.     The  cyclic  redactions  testify 

rules  over  the  whole  land.  N.  B.  It  requires  two  incantations 
(p.  57)  to  restore  (1)  the  lame  king,  (2)  the  land  and  its  in- 
habitants. 

While  one  might  be  tempted  to  see  in  the  Oriental  story  the 
material  of  Count  Philip's  Book  (see  above,  p.  3]),  this  possibility 
seems  to  me  precluded  ( 1 )  by  the  fact  that  Crestien's  scenario  is 
obviously  Celtic;  (2)  that  his  talismans  are  explainable  only  on  a 
Celtic  basis;  (3)  that  his  fisher  king  like  Cormac,  Bran,  Llew, 
etc.,  has  been  wounded  by  a  lance;  (4)  that  a  fisherman  of  a 
supernatural  race  was  known  to  the  Celts  in  the  Welsh  form 
of  Gwgno  Garanhir,  famous  both  for  the  fish  he  catches  and  the 
mwys  or  basket  which  can  supply  the  whole  world  with  food  (see 
my  article,  pp.  397-398)  ;  (5)  that  the  fishing  theme  is  of  well- 
nigh  universal  occurrence,  though  especially  current  along  the  Medi- 
terranean, and  (6)  that  PhiMp's  book  was  a  story  of  the  graal 
(Perceval,  v.  64),  to  which  we  have  no  specific  Oriental  parallels  as 
close  as  the  caldron  {coire)  of  Daghdha;  on  whom,  as  an  agricul- 
tural god,  see  D'Arbois  de  Jubainville,  Cours  de  litt.  celt.,  n,  269  ff. 

Thus  it  would  seem  that  if  an  Oriental  strain  be  present  in 
Crestien's  source  at  all,  it  is  secondary;  that  is,  due  to  contact  of 
an  Eastern  legend  with  Celtic  tradition  (the  Perceval  form)  at  a 
point  which  we  cannot  now  determine.  Our  present  testimony  does 
not  seem  to  me  to  admit  of  any  other  conclusion.  On  the  fish  as 
a  zoomorphic  symbol  of  life,  see  my  article,  pp.  391  ff.,  and  R.  Eisler, 
Orpheus  and  the  Fisher  of  Men  in  Early  Christian  Art,  p.  8  of  the 
Quest,  a  quarterly,  London,   1910. 

u  Romanische   Literaturen   u.   Sprch.,    1909,   pp.    82-84. 


46  nitze  [28 

to  the  attempt  of  the  organizing  French  mind  to  bring  a  new 
order  out  of  the  Celtic  confusion.  Thus,  while  we  cannot 
expect  to  find  the  particular  version  on  which  Crestien  and 
Wolfram  drew,  we  may  at  least  conjecture  what  this. version 
was  like. 

Of  the  various  Manannan-otherworld  descriptions  extant 
the  most  typical,  especially  as  to  technique,  is  the  oft-men- 
tioned Serglige  Conculaind  or  Sick  Bed  of  Ciichulinn  from 
the  Lebor  na  h-Uidre.  I  hesitate  to  bring  it  forward  once 
more.  It  is,  however,  so  good  an  example  of  how  the  great 
shapeshifter  wins  the  services  of  a  mortal  hero  that  it  may 
well  be  taken  as  a  partial  prototype  of  the  Perceval  quest. 
Khys  65  has  already  connected  it  with  Peredur's  adventure 
with  the  Empress  and  Owen's  visit  to  the  Lady  of  the  Foun- 
tain, in  which  connection  it  has  been  elaborately  treated  by 
Brown  in  his  Yvain  study;  and  Ehrismann  is  inclined  to  see 
in  it  a  source  of  the  Wigalois66  (Guigelain).  Our  object 
thus  is  to  point  out  a  basal  type,  to  which  the  otherworld  visit 
represented  by  Crestien's  source  roughly  conformed,  rather 
than  a  version  with  which  Crestien  was  actually  acquainted.67 
For  if  we  eliminate  for  the  time  being  the  love  motive  from 
the  Serglige,  whereby  Fand  occupies  the  foreground,  and 
assume  that  Manannan  is  the  prime  mover  in  the  story  68 — 

45  Arthurian  Legend,  300  ff . 

68  Ehrismann,  Beitrage  z.  Gesch.  d.  deut.  Spr.,  etc.,  xxx,  30: 

w  Of  value  in  this  connection  is  also  the  description  of  Da  Derga's 
Hostel,  edited  by  W.  Stokes,  Revue  Celtique,  xxn,  pp.  9  ff .  (see 
especially,  pp.  306-307 )  from  the  Lebor  na  h-Uidre  and  the  Yellow 
Book  of  Lecan.  Here  is  the  Luin  which  Brown  identifies  with  the 
Bleeding  Lance,  PMLA.,  xxv,  18.  Da  Derga,  it  is  said,  "  wore  a 
green  cloak  and  a  shirt  with  a  white  hood  and  a  red  insertion.  In 
his  hand  was  a  sword  with  a  hilt  of  ivory,  and  he  supplies  attend- 
ance of  every  imda  in  the  house  with  ale  and  food,  and  he  is  quick- 
witted in   serving  the  whole  host." 

"As  I  remarked  in  my  Fisher  King,  op.  cit.,  411,  "the  underlying 
fact  is  the  identification  of  Life  and  Fertility  with  the  creative 
power  of  moisture."     This  is  also  fundamental  in  the  Yvain,  which 


29]  THE  CASTLE  OF  THE  GRAIL  47 

in  whose  behalf  the  hero  has  been  summoned — we  get  a 
general  setting  which  recalls  in  many  details  Perceval's  visit 
to  the  grail  castle. 

It  is  Liban,69  wife  of  Labraid  Swift-Hand-on-Sword  [cf. 
the  host's  niece  la  sore  pucele,  "Wolfram's  Eepanse  de  Schoye 
(Joie),  who  presents  Perceval  with  the  sword,  Crestien,  v. 
3107],  who,  assisted  by  Fand,  acts  as  messenger. 

Eed  and  green  prevail  in  their  garments  [see  (a)  and  (/)]. 

The  palace  lies  "over  a  pure  lake,"  which  they  cross  in  a 
bronze  boat.  They  reach  it  in  the  fraction  of  a  minute 
[see  the  suddenness  with  which  the  grail  castle  appears  in 
Crestien] . 

Labraid  is  called  Long-Hair,  and  there  is  another  king 
with  him  in  the  palace  [cf.  the  two  grail-kings  70]. 

Three   fifties   about  each   of  them 


Fifty  beds  on  the  right  side 


Fifty  beds  on   the  left  side 


Front   rails   to   the   beds   of   wood, 
Their  posts  of  white  gilded  over. 
And  the  light  they  have 
Is  a  precious  glittering  stone. 

seems  to  me  a  reidentification  of  local  folklore  with  the  formula 
of  the  otherworld  visit,  see  Modern  Philology,  vii,  160-161. 
It  is  noteworthy  that  Fand  = "  tear-drop,"  and  that  Liban,  ac- 
cording to  Rhys  (Hib.  Lect.,  463),  is  elsewhere  associated  with  a 
magic  well  which  overwhelms  her  and  changes  her  into  a  mermaid. 
The  rain-storm  consequent  on  the  appearance  of  the  grail  in  some 
of  the  romances  (e.  g.,  Perlesvaus,  Pot.  I,  90  ff.)  and  the  abundance 
of  water  after  the  grail  visit,  mentioned  by  Wauchier,  v.  20340  ff ., 
bear  on  this  point. 

•  I  follow  Brown's  summary,  Iwain,  a  Study,  pp.  34  ff. ;  with 
occasional  reference  to  Thurneysen's  German  translation,  Sagen  aus 
dem  alt  en  Irland,  pp.  81  ff. 

"Cf.  my  Fisher-King,  p.  398;  also  A.  Nutt,  Folklore,  XXI,  1  li- 
the Fisher-King's  father  is  "  the  Mikado  of  the  myth,  the  super- 
sanct   representative." 


48  NITZE  [30 

[see  (d)  and  («)]. 

There  are  three-score  trees 

Their  tops  barely  touching. 

Three  hundred  men  are  nourished  by  each  tree, 

With  fruit  manifold,  without  rind. 

There  is  a  well  in  the  noble  sid, 

With  three  fifties,  gay  mantled; 

And  a  brooch  of  gold,  fair  in  color, 

In  every  one  of  the  gay  mantles. 

There  is  a  cask  there  with  joyous  mead, 

Which  is  distributed  to  the  household. 

It  continued  ever,  enduring  is  the  custom, 

So    that   it   is   always   constantly   full.71 

[see   (/) — particularly  Wolfram]. 

There  is  a  woman  in  this  noble  house; 
She  is  superior  to  the  women  of  Ireland; 
With  golden  hair  she  comes  out 
In  her   accomplished  beauty." 

There  is  a  woman  in  this  noble  house;  she  is  superior  to 
the  women  of  Ireland; 

Her  speech  to  the  men  of  each  king 
Is  beautiful,  is  wonderful. 

[see  la  sore  pucele,  Kepanse]. 

Loeg,  the  charioteer  of  Cuchulinn,  says  that  had  he  not 
withdrawn  quickly: 

They  had  wounded  me  so  that  I  had  been  powerless. 


The  woman  whom  I  speak  of  there, 
She  robs  the  hosts  of  their  wits. 

u  Thurneysen,  p.  95. 

"ewig  bleibt  es,  unverganglich 
stets  gefiillt  bis  an  den  Rand." 

"  Thurneysen,  p.  96. 

"Tritt  heraus  im  blonden  Haar, 
Wonnevoll  und  reich  begabt." 


31]  THE    CASTLE    OF    THE    GRAIL  49 

When  filially  Cuchulinn  is  separated  from  Fand  he  wanders 
for  a  long  time  without  drink  and  without  food  among  the 
mountains,  and  "  'tis  then  that  he  slept  every  night  upon  the 
road  to  Midliiacra " 73  [see  Perceval's  wanderings,  Crestien, 
vv.  6180,  Wolfram,  bk.  ix, 

"  S'an  ai  puis  eti  si  grant  duel 
Que  niorz  eiisse  est6  mon  vuel " 

Crestien,  w.  6343-6345]. 

We  have  now  seen  that  in  every  important  respect  the 
earliest  extant  grail  quest  can  be  explained  on  a  Celtic,  perhaps 
ultimately  an  Irish,  basis.  I  may,  therefore,  reaffirm  positively 
what  I  said  tentatively  in  my  Fisher  King:  that  the  myth 
"  descends  in  direct  line  from  the  primitive  Celts."  As  con- 
cerns the  ritualistic  side  of  the  Crestien- Wolfram  account,  it 
is  clear  that  the  action  of  the  French  version  hinges  on  the 
question : 74  Quel  riche  home  Van  an  servoit.  This  question, 
we  are  told,  relates  especially  to  the  Fisher  King's  father; 
i.  e.,  to  the  life-god  himself.75  Bearing  in  mind  that  the 
caldron  of  the  Tuatha  is  noted  for  its  life-giving  qualities, 
and  that  the  Tuatha  De  were  considered  the  "holders  and 
givers  of  life,"  76  so  that  they  could  even  restore  the  dead  to 
life,77  we  see  that  the  form  of  the  question  practically  ex- 
plains itself.78  Crestien  may  have  found  it,  at  least  the  hint 
for  it,  in  Count  Philip's  book,  which  thus  was  an  account  of 
a  pagan  ceremonial,  in  its  appropriate  setting.  This  Crestien 
undertook  to  interpret  in  his  customary  scholastic  manner: 

"The  mountains  of  Sliabh-Luachra  between  Limerick  and  Kerry 
in  Munster. 

u  Baist,  op.  cit.,  p.  18. 

75 Vv.  6380-6381  (Qui  filz  est  a  celui,  etc.);  see  my  Fisher  King, 
p.  398. 

"Nutt,  Voyage  of  Bran,  n,  195. 

"  Keating,  History  of  Ireland,  Irish  Texts  Soc.,  I,  203. 

"  On  the  relationship  of  the  question  to  the  Irish  gess,  and  to 
folklore,  see  Ehrismann,  op.  cit.,  50,  and  Hertz,  Parzival s,  445  ff. 

4 


50  NITZE  [32 

as  a  test  of  chivalric  fitness.  As  for  the  destructive  effect  of 
the  lance,  this  too  was  indicated  to  him,  but  perhaps  by  a 
different  source.     In  the  Gawain-section  79  MS.  794  reads : 

Del  sane  tot  cler  que  ele  plore 
Ert  escrit  que  il   ert  ancore 
Que  toz  li  reaumes  de  Logres, 
Qui  jadis  fu  la  terre  as  ogres, 
Ert  destruite  par  cele  lance. 

w.  6129-6133.*° 

79  See  Miss  Weston,  Sir  Perceval,  i,  178  ff.,  on  the  Gawain  tradi- 
tion. Professor  Warren  has  repeatedly  called  my  attention  to  the 
fact,  which  others  seem  to  have  overlooked — including  myself — that 
Gawain  never  meets  a  fisherman  in  a  boat,  and  that,  in  fact,  his 
chief  concern  in  the  story  is  with  the  bleeding  lance,  and  not  with 
the  grail:  in  Wauchier,  e.  g.,  the  lance  bleeds  into  a  silver  cup, 
and  in  the  Gr&ne: 

Daz  sper   von  gotes  tougen 
Wart   grozer   tropfen  bluotes   drl 
In  dem  tobliere,  der  im  bl 
Stuont. 

w.    29418-29421. 

See  Brown,  PMLA.,  xxv,  pp.  50  ff.,  on  the  tradition  of  the  enchant- 
ment of  Great  Britain  as  seen  in  the  Balin  story  and  Gawain's  visit  to 
the  Grp.il  Castle  in  Wauchier's  Continuation.  This  fits  in  well  with 
my  theory  of  a  multiplicity  of  closely  related  sources,  see  above,  p. 
27],  which  were  easily  united  by  the  French  romances.  Ferdi- 
nand Lot's  criticism  of  Miss  Weston  (Bibl.  de  Vecole  des  Chartes, 
lxx,  571  ff.),  for  considering  other  material  than  Crestien's  portion 
of  the  Perceval  as  of  first-class  importance  in  the  grail  discussion, 
seems  to  me  to  go  too  far. 

M  For  the  second  line  Baist  gives  among  the  "  hergestellte  Le- 
sung  " :  E  s'est  escrit  qu'il  iert  tel  ore,  which  must  be  approximately 
correct.  Crestien  did  not  rime  plore  and  ancore.  Huet  has  dis- 
cussed the  readings  of  this  passage  in  Rom.  xxxvii,  301-305.  In 
v.  6133  we  should  probably  read  sera  destruiz  for  ert  destruite  of 
MS.  794;  see  Baist  and  Huet. 

As  for  the  rime  Logres :  ogres,  it  is  interesting  to  note  that 
Crestien  used  it  before,  in  Charrete,  w.  3532  ff. 

An  la  place  qui  estoit  plainne 
Des  janz  del  reaume  de  Logres; 


33]  THE  CASTLE  OF  THE  GRAIL  51 

On  the  other  hand,  Perceval  had  been  told  that  it  was  owing 
to  his  failure  that: 

"  Dames  an  perdront  lor  mariz 
Terres  an  seront  essilliees 
E    puceles    desconselliees." 

w.   4640-4642. 

So  we  may  conclude  that  the  sacramental  nature  of  the  story 
was  already  a  part  of  Crestien's  source,  remembering,  how- 
ever, that  his  continuators  in  some  respects  had  a  clearer 
notion  of  it  than  he,  and  returned  to  the  wellsprings  "  of 
which  the  livre  gave  only  an  imperfect  synopsis."  I  have 
purposely  omitted  from  the  present  discussion  all  reference 
to  them  and  to  Eobert  de  Boron,  for  the  obvious  reason  that 
their  works  are  later  than  Crestien's  and  were  planned  with 
reference  to  his — although  it  is  equally  clear  that  they  had 
access  to  the  same  general  body  of  tradition  that  he  did. 
In  the  case  of  Wolfram,  however,  our  discussion  has  shown 
that  his  detailed  account  of  the .  gralburg  may  point  to  the 
use  of  Crestien's  own  source  or  one  closely  akin  to  it  in 
material.  For  whether  or  not,  as  Heinzel 81  maintained, 
Wolfram  drew  on  Kiot,  and  Kiot  on  Crestien's  source — 
Wolfram's  version,  as  we  have  seen,  is  in  some  respects  more 
chaiacteristically  Celtic  than  that  of  Crestien. 


Qu'aussi   con  por  oir  les   ogres 
Vont  au  mostier  a  feste  anvel. 

Here,  however,  ogres  =  orgues,  see  Foerster,  Charrete,  p.  474 ; 
whereas  above,  as  in  the  Letre  de  Faramont  a  Meliadus,  publ.  in 
the  Rev.  d.  lang.  rom.  xxxv,  233,  ogres  =  paiens  ('der  menschen- 
fressende  Riese'). 

u  Ueber    Wolframs    von    Eschenbach   Parzival    in    the    Sitzungsb., 
cxxx,  29  ff.,  of  the  Vienna  Academy,  1893. 


LE  CONTENZ  DOU  MONDE  by  RENAUD  D'ANDON 


EDITED  BY 

T.  Atkinson  Jenkins 


In  the  introduction  to  a  noteworthy  volume,  La  Vie  en 
France  au  Moyen  Age,  d'apres  quelques  moralistes  du  temps, 
1908,  Ch.-V.  Langlois  called  attention  to  the  poem  which 
follows  here,  including  it  in  a  list  of  minor  satirical  works, 
then  unpublished,  which  seemed  to  him  to  deserve  the  notice 
of  the  historian  of  French  society  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

As  to  form,  the  work  of  Renaud  is  in  no  wise  remarkable : 
monorimed  Alexandrines  in  quatrains  is  the  commonest  of 
all  the  stanzas  used  in  Dits  and  Etats  du  Monde  by  the 
bourgeois  poets  of  the  epoch  of  St.  Louis.1 

As  to  style  also,  without  admitting  the  entire  truth  of 
Piaget's  statement:  Qui  a  lu  deux  ou  trois  de  ces  poemes  les 
connait  tous,  it  is  true  that  there  are  marked  resemblances  of 
tone  and  expression  in  the  poems  of  this  group.  We  read, 
for  example,  in  Renaud's  work: 

Joustise  est  esclopee  et  droiz  vait  a  potenees; 

and,  in  the  Vie  du  Monde  of  Rustebuef : 

Puis  que  justice  cloche  et  droiz  pent  et  encline. 

Of  the  Last  Judgment  Renaud  exclaims, 

1  Naetebus's  index  includes  107  poems  in  this  form,  mostly  of  the 
thirteenth  century.  The  Contenz  dou  Monde,  for  some  reason,  was 
overlooked:  perhaps  because  the  copyist  arranged  the  Alexandrines 
in  half  lines  of  (usually)  six  syllables.  Godefroy,  who  read  the  poem, 
usually  cites  it  in  this  erroneous  form,  and  under  the  bizarre  title, 
Contempt  dou  Monde. 

[1  53 


54  JENKINS  [2 

Quant  je  bien  m'en  porpens  toute  la  char  me  tremble; 

similarly,   with   almost   identical   phrase,   Jean   de   Meung, 
Testament,  1967: 

Las!  quant  il  m'en  sovient  trestous  li  cors  me  tremble. 

As  to  the  satirical  matter,  however,  the  invectives  of  Re- 
naud  d'Andon  fully  meet  the  requirements  so  well  formulated 
by  M.  Langlois :  they  are  "  original,  sincere,  and  founded 
upon  direct  observation  " ;  moreover,  the  indignant  poet  has 
composed  his  censorious  quatrains  with  considerable  vigor  of 
thought  and  diction.  Finally,  it  may  be  stated  that  Eenaud's 
work  is  by  no  means  without  linguistic  color  and  interest.2 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  whole  of  the  first  part 
has  been  lost.  We  should  have  found  there,  no  doubt,  the 
needed  explanation  of  the  title,  which  has  been  gathered  from 
the  Explicit.  The  word  contenz  3  is  well  known  in  the  sense 
of  '  contention,'  '  dispute/  Were  this  noun  in  the  plural, 
there  would  be  little  difficulty  in  translating  the  title;  in  the 
singular,  the  meaning  is  not  altogether  clear,  unless,  like  Lat. 
lis,  we  may  at  times  take  contenz  in  the  special  sense  of 
'  dispute  at  law/  and  translate,  "  The  World's  Indictment," 
or  "  The  World  brought  to  Judgment." 

This  interpretation  gains  in  force  when  we  reflect  that  the 
author  of  this  versified  proces  du  monde  was  probably  a  lawyer, 
or  a  lawyer's  clerk.  He  shows,  in  fact,  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  both  lay  and  ecclesiastical  courts  (st.  3,  4),  he  is 
familiar  with  law  terms  (st.  29),  quotes  the  exact  words  of 
the  judge  (st.  21),  and  scorns  the  petty  barristers  who  can- 

3  Only  one  MS.  of  Le  Contenz  dou  Monde  is  known,  and  that  is 
incomplete:  Bib.  Nat.,  f.  f.  1593,  fo.  141-145  vo.  I  am  indebted  to 
M.  Joseph  Beclier  for  an  excellent  photograph  of  the  text. 

'Contenz,  verbal  substantive  of  contender,  is  of  course  at  first 
indeclinable.  L.  Constans  is  therefore  in  error  (Chrestomathie,*  p. 
182)  in  deriving  the  secondary  form  content  (cp.  esfort,  romant, 
«tc.)   from  Lat.  contentum. 


3]  LE     CONTENZ    DOU    MONDE    BY    RENAUD    D'ANDON         55 

not  even  translate  the  Latin  of  their  legal  documents  (st. 
lid).  We  notice  that  after  an  enumeration  of  various  other 
kinds  of  sinners,  he  returns  with  predilection  to  the  corrupt 
judges  (st.  51  ff.).  The  linguistic  indications  favor  the  idea 
that  the  Andon  of  Eenaud  was  Andonville  in  the  Gatinais, 
not  far  from  Pithiviers;  if  this  theory  is  correct,  Eenaud's 
poem  may  appear  in  the  light  of  a  satire  on  the  courts  of 
the  region  of  Orleans,  in  the  second  half  of  the  thirteenth 
century. 

The  work  can  hardly  be  younger  than  this,  for  Eenaud 
does  not  rime  IE :  E  as  do,  at  times,  Philippe  de  Eemy 
(f  1296),  Eustebuef,  Guillaume  Guiart,  the  Roman  de  Fau- 
vel,  and  possibly  also  the  authors  of  the  Roman  de  la  Rose* 
The  fiexional  -s  is  also  practically  undisturbed;  most  of  the 
exceptions  are  to  be  set  down  to  the  copyist.  It  seems  there- 
fore too  early  to  admit  the  contractions  asseurement  3b, 
deust  lib,  meurer  15d  (in  view  also  of  deiist  74d,  eust  16c, 
vedir  23d,  jeiine  12c),  altho  it  is  precisely  to  this  region  that 
Suchier  ascribes  the  beginnings  of  the  change  to  which  we 
owe  the  modern  French  bonheur;  malheur.6 

That  the  Contenz  dou  Monde  was  written  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Orleans  rather  than  in  that  of  Chartres  (there  is  a 
second  Andonville  in  the  Department  Eure-et-Loire)  is  indi- 
cated by  many  resemblances  between  the  language  of  Eenaud 
and  that  of  Guillaume  de  Lorris,  Thibaut,  author  of  the 
Roman  de  la  Poire,  and  Guillaume  Guiart.  Like  these 
writers,  Eenaud  rimes  EN :  AN  freely,  while  Jean  le  Mar- 

*Auler,  Tier  Dialekt  der  Provinzen  OrUanais  u.  Perche  im  13. 
Jhdt.,  p.  29.  The  form  guieres,  not  admitted  by  the  copyist  (st.  64), 
is  nevertheless  abundantly  attested  in  Rose  (Auler,  p.  41)  and  else- 
where. Cp.  Suchier,  Les  Voyelles  Toniques  du  Vieux  Franeais,  p. 
73;  G.  Paris,  Romania  xxx,  p.  365,  n.  4. 

8  Die  Franzbsische  u.  Provenzalische  Sprache  u.  ihre  Mundarten, 
2te  Aufl.,  p.  744.  For  Guillaume  Guiart,  born  in  Orleans  and 
writing  in  1306,  asseurement  is  still  a  word  of  five  syllables:  Branche 
des  Royaux  Lignages,  Vol.  I,  pp.  129,  131. 


56  JENKINS  [4 

chant,  who  completed  his  collection  of  Miracles  de  Nostre 
Dame  de  Chartres  in  1262,  keeps  the  two  classes  of  words 
strictly  separate.  Eenaud  also  rimes  eslite :  merite  (st.  91) 
while  Chartres  is  again  outside  the  territory  which  shows  this 
development  of  Lat.  E  -f- 1  in  the  thirteenth  century  (see 
Suchier's  Map  xii). 

Two  peculiar  rimes  remain  to  be  considered.  St.  26  de- 
meures:  jusqu'aleures:  deseures:  meures,  which  may  be  com- 
pared with  st.  80  desore:  devore:  hore:  demore.  The  appear- 
ance of  alores  in  this  group  is  surprising,  but  cp.  mores:  des- 
lores  Poire  p.  53-4;  parole:  gole  Jean  de  Meung,  Testament 
p.  100;  forre:  encorre  Eose  (Meon)  II,  322.  More  to  the 
East,  the  versified  Vegetius  also  offers  hores:  encores  (Wen- 
delbron  40  a).  In  alores,  encores  this  irregularity  may  be 
due  to  association  with  hore(s),  especially  in  phrases  like  par 
liores,  puis  Vore  que,  etc. 

In  st.  87  occur  cort  ( c urtum ) :  tort  (torquet)  :  secort: 
cort  (cohortem).  Similar  irregular  rimes  used  by  Jehan  le 
Marchant  (la  mors:  secors,  sors:  plors,  etc.)  and  by  the  author 
of  the  Roman  de  Fauvel  (la  mors:  amors)  have  been  dismissed 
as  inexact,6  but  it  is  more  probable  that  we  have  in  il  tourt, 
la  mours,  etc.,  a  pronunciation  current  to  some  extent  in  this 
and  the  neighboring  territory  to  the  eastward:  quatourze 
(Yonne),  empourte  (Cote-d'Or),  etc.7 

What  we  possess  of  the  vocabulary  of  Eenaud  d'Andon 
shows  some  features  of  more  than  ordinary  interest;  one  may 
mention  the  rare  words  oerole  (2a)  druges  (55b)  assiver 
(10a)  desabrier  (57b),  etc.,  some  of  them  known  only  from 
their  occurrence  here.     The  last  has  been  made  the  subject  of 

'Folster,  in  Ausgaben  u.  Abhandlungen  xliii;  Hess,  in  Romanische 
Forschungen  xxvn,  p.  315.  Palsgrave  (p.  785)  records  je  teurs, 
but  this  form  may  represent  je  tuers,  il  tuert  being  well  known 
(Suchier,  Voyelles  toniques,  p.  31). 

TE.  Goerlich,  Der  Burgundische  Dialekt  im  xiii.  u.  adv.  Jahr- 
hundert,  pp.  87-88.  Cf.  also  Atlas  Linguistique,  Carte  le  tordre 
(No.   1316). 


5]         LE    CONTENZ    DOU    MONDE    BY    RENAUD    BRANDON         57 

a  short,  notice  by  G.  Paris.8  These  and  other  noteworthy 
words  and  forms  are  collected,  with  a  few  comments,  in  a 
glossary  at  the  end  of  the  poem. 

Le  Contenz  dou  Monde. 

1.  ...  por  lui  achoisoner.     [fo.  141,  a,  1] 

2.  Li  lais  qui  riens  ne  set  de  plet  ne  de  berole 
Tout  sanz  conseil  d'autrui  commence  sa  parole: 
S'uns  seus  moz  trop  ou  poi         de  la  bouche  li  vole 
II  est  tout  errant  pris         et  mis  en  la  jaiole. 

3.  Amender  li  covient         ainz  qu'il  isse  de  cage, 
Et  baillier  de  l'amende,         seiirement  ou  gage. 

L'en  fet  a  la  cort  laie         maint  tort  et  maint  outrage 
Par  defaut  de  joustise         et  de  bon  seignorage. 

4.  Povres  hons  qui  est  trez         en  cort  de  sainte  eglise 
Est  ausi  atachiez         com  chiens  a  terre  glise; 

Le  petit  que  il  a         chacuns  li  apetise: 

Ce  sont  genz  sanz  pitie         et  plain  de  covoitise. 

5.  [P]lain  sont  de  covoitise         avocat  et  notaire, 
Tout  avant  veulent  estre         paiez  de  leur  sallaire; 
Quant  ont  tret  de  la  gent         ce  qu'il  en  puent  traire 
Aucune  pes  honteuse        li  conseillent  a  faire. 

6.  Li  avocat  qui  ont         les  granz  chapes  forrees 
Manguent  bones  genz         jusque  enz  es  correes; 

Nus  n'en  tret  son  chatel         qui  emprent  tes  denrees; 
Par  le  pais  en  sont        maintes  lermes  plorees. 

*  Melanges  Linguistiques,  publics  par  M.  Roques,  p.  453. 
2  c.  MS.  un  s&ul  mot.  3  6.   ms.  asseurement. 

6  c.  MS.  les  corrected  to  tes. 


58  JENKINS  [6 

7.  Li  avocat  soustienent  les  baraz  et  les  fuites  [fo.  141, 
Par  que  les  bones  genz  sont  mortes  et  destruites,  a,  2. 
S'en  manguent  les  barz,         les  saumons  et  les  truites: 

De  mal  feu  puissent  il         avoir  les  langues  cuites ! 

8.  [M]al-feu[s]  arde  leur  langues  qui  huent  come  chate, 
Car  nus  n'en  a  conseil         se  trop  chier  ne  Pachate ; 

Des  bones  genz  n'ont  cure         qui  ont  la  borse  plate, 
Se  n'est  aucuns  trichierres         qui  les  guile  et  barate. 

9.  [L]i  plus  grant  mestre  sont         de  la  partie  au  riche; 
Li  povres  qui  ou  plet         met  quanqu'il  a  et  fiche 
Prent  quelqu'avocateau         qui  le  barate  et  triche, 

Si  font  devenir  large         aucune[s]    fois  le  chiche. 

10.  [C]il  emporte  l'argent         et  point  ne  li  assive; 
Quanqu'il  vet  languetant        ne  li  vaut  une  cive. 
Jacoit  ce  que  il  ait         bone  raison  et  vive 

Quant  il  cuide  estre  au  chief         si  se  trove  a  la  rive. 

11.  Quant  il  cuide  avoir  fet         s'a  tout  a  commencier, 
Car  cil  li  desavance        qui  delist  avancier. 

Tuit  se  font  avocat         cil  ribaut  bobancier, 
Tex  qui  ne  savroit  mie         .ii.  moz  enromancier. 


12.  [C]il  qui  ont  en  cest  siecle  [141,6,1]  l'avoir  et  la  pecune 
Et  qui  eslieve  sunt         par  le  don  de  fortune, 

Cil  ont  les  bons  consaus,         li  povres  en  jeiine, 
Qu'il  n'a  dont  il  refraigne         covoitise  l'enfrune. 

13.  [AJvocat  par  nature         sont  aver  et  prenant, 
Don  feiissent  a  prendre  car  il  sont  bien  prenant, 
Car  covoiteus  de  prendre         ne  sont  pas  aprenant: 
II  prenent  et  recovrent  touz  jors  au  remanant. 

10  6.  MS.  ne  U  vaut  pas.    c.  MS.  quil. 

11  6.  MS.  qui  le  deust.  12  6.  sunt  in  margin. 


7]         LE    CONTENZ    DOU     MONDE    BY     RENAUD    D'ANDON         59 

14.  [I]l  aiment  plus  deniers         que  ne  fet  une  choe: 
Qui  nes  paye  sus  l'ongle         si  braie[nt]    come  poe. 
Touz  jors  tendent  la  main         come  singes  la  poe: 
S'il  n'est  plus  que  paiez         trop  petitet  s'en  loe. 

15.  [I]l  aloignent  sentence         et  font  le  plet  durer 
Quant  la  partie  puet        les  despens  endurer; 

Touz  se  gaste  li  povres         ainz  qu'il  viegne  a  jurer; 
La  sentence  est  si  dure         qu'el  ne  puet  meiirer. 

16.  [I]l  aloignent  au  povre         sentence  et  jugement, 
Et  font  le  plet  durer        par  leur  conchiement. 

Li  povres  qui  n'eiist        mestier  d'aloignement 
Ne  puet  sigre  le  plet        ne  soffrir  longuement. 

17.  [P]ar  force  li  covient,         voille  ou  non,  defaillir 
Come  cil  qui  ne  puet     [fo.  141,  6,  2]     ne  muer  ne  saillir. 
Li  riches  hons  le  fet         d'autre  part  assaillir, 
Semondre  en  plusors  leus         por  li  plus  malbaillir. 

18.  [L]i  povres  hons  ne  puet         les  despens  alegier, 
Ne  trove  qui  li  prest        ne  quil  voille  aplegier; 

Or  se  laist  entredire,         or  se  laist  engrigier 
Come  cil  qui  ne  puet         amender  de  legier. 

19.  [T]out  en  nonchalissant         se  met  en  son  afere, 
Et  laist  toz  jors  ovrer        la  partie  adversere. 

Li  riches  tret  de  cort         tout  ce  qu'il  en  veut  trere, 
Nus  ne  li  escondit,         nus  ne  li  fait  contrere. 

20.  [T]ant  est  li  plez  siguz        et  la  chose  menee 
Que  la  verite[z]  est         changiee  et  bestornee, 
Que  vaincuz  est  li  povres        par  sentence  donee 
Et  dampne[z]  des  despens        tout  a  une  jornee. 

15  d.  MS.  Quele.  19  c.  MS.  riches  hons. 


60  JENKINS  [8 

21.  [L]i  juges  ne  puet  rn.es        qui  done  la  sentence, 
Quant  li  droit  sont  escrit         qui  rigle[n]t  la  sentence; 
De  riens  ne  doit  jugier         dont  il  soit  en  doutance, 
Mes  de  ce  seulement         dont  il  a  conoissance. 

22.  [PJovres  hons  qui  pledoie  n'a  pas  bien  sa  cort  close, 
Li  avoirs  au  riche  home  [fo.  142,  a,  1]  li  respont  et  oppose. 
Nus  conseil  ne  li  done         qu'il  ne  veut  ne  qu'il  n'ose, 

Si  emporte  li  riches         tout  le  gras  de  la  chose. 

23.  [D]ex!  quant  vendra  li  juges         qui  toz  nos  jugera, 
Qui  set  touz  les  secrez         quanqu'en  fu  et  sera, 

Qui  sanz  conseil  d'autrui        nous  examinera? 
Lors  porra  Pen  veoir         qui  miex  alliguera. 

24.  [Q]ui  seront  ore  cil         qui  miex  alligueront? 
Cil  qui  les  bones  oevres         en  cest  siecle  feront. 
Por  nous  et  contre  nos         noz  oevres  crieront: 

La  langue  se  tera,         les  oevres  parleront. 

25.  [I]l  n'i  aura  ja  langue         qui  ost  un  mot  tentir; 
L'oevre  l'acuseroit         s'ele  voloit  mentir. 

Fox  est  qui  jusqu'alores         s'atent  a  repentir; 
Trop  se  puet  li  pechierres         tarder  et  alentir. 

26.  [Es]  tu  queque  pechierres         qui  en  pechie  demeures, 
Si  te  lo  repentir,         n'aten  pas  jusqu'aleures ; 

Se  tu  ne  faiz  tandis         com  tu  es  an  deseures 

Tu  faudras  au  pardon         come  renart  aus  meures. 

27.  [C]i  vaut  la  repentance         qui  la  riens  ne  vaudra; 
S'il  ne  te  chaut  de  toi,         ne  se  cui  en  chaudra;     [fo.  142, 
Ja  ne  garderas  Peure         que  la  mort  t'asaudra  a,  2] 
Car  pooir  de  bien  faire         plainement  te  faudra. 

28.  [Mo]  It  fet  a  redouter        cele  pesme  jornee 
Ou  nos   serons  jugie         tuit  a  une   fournee. 


9]  LE     CONTENZ    DOU    MONDE    BY     RENAUD    BRANDON         61 

Ja  nule  creature        n'en  sera  destornee 
Qu'ele  ne  soit  jugiee         selonc  sa  destinee. 

29.  [Q]uant  tuit  serons  verm         a  eel  jour  peremptoire 
N'i  aura  propose,         barre  ne  dilactoire; 

Qui  avroit  toute  loy         et  decrez  en  memoire, 
Ne  li  vaudroit  il  pas         la  queue  d'une  poire. 

30.  [AJvocat  ne  sauront         aliguier  ne  plaidier; 
S'il  puent  ici  nuire,         la  ne  porront  aidier. 
Payez  sera  chascuns         ensemble  d'ui  et  d'ier: 

Je  criem  que  toz  li  miaudres         n'ait  preu  a  Deu  vidier. 

31.  [A]   merveilles  sera         cil  juges  cler  voianz, 
II  conoistra  chascun        et  verra  hors  et  anz; 

Toz  li  sens  de  cest  monde         [li]  sera  bien  neanz; 
Avocat  erieront        l'enseigne  as  recreanz. 

32.  [L]i  sage  de  cest  monde         seront  fol  et  tape, 
Li  aver  comperront         ce  qu'il  ont  ci  happe; 

Li  bon  morsel  seront     [fo.  142,  b,  1]     as  gloutons  eschape, 
Les  sausses  camelines        et  li  poivre  trape. 

33.  [L]i  glouton  de  cest  monde        seront  mu  et  taisant, 
Trop  se  font  ci  servir,         trop  se  vont  aesant; 

Mes  ne  troveront  la        ne  perdriz  ne  fesant, 

Xe  nul  des  bons  morsiaus         qu'il  vont  ci  glotissant. 

34.  [B]ien  avront  cil  gloton         changie  denz  et  gencives 
Qui  por  une  ribaude         corroient  bien   .ii.  lives; 

Bien  sachent  il  qu'a  Deu         [ja]  n'avront  pes  ne  trives, 
Leur  langues  lechierresses         ardront  mortes  et  vives. 

35.  [H]elas,  mont  seront  ore        mort  et   desbarete 
Une  gent  qui  se  sont         por  noient  endete 

30  a.  ms.  seront. 


62  JENKINS  [10 

En  fesant  leur  ordure        et  leur  chaitivete: 
Li  deliz  de  la  char        est  de  molt  chier  chate. 

36.  [Mo]  It  est  de  chier  chatel        li  deliz  de  luxure, 
N'i  a  que  vaine  gloire,         rien  ne  vaut  et  poi  dure; 
Si  conchie  le  cors         et  met  l'arme  en  ordure, 

C'est  viltez,  vanitez,         chaitivetez,   ordure. 

37.  [U]ne  autre  gent  i  a         qui  sont  en  pechie  d'ire, 
Se  li  juges  les  het         ce  ne  fet  pas  a  dire. 

Mes  il  voudra  le  grain         de  la  paille  d'elire     [fo.  142,  b,  2] 
Et  severra  l'ordure         du  miel  et  de  la  cire. 

38.  [U]ne  autre  gent  i  a        mauvese  et  pereceuse 
Qui  n'est  pas   de  bien  faire         chaude  ne  curieuse, 
Aingois  gastent  leur  tens         et  metent  en  oiseuse : 
Contr'aus  dira  li  juges         sentence  dolereuse. 

39.  [HJelas,  puis  conoistront         et  verront  leur  sotise 
Cil  qui  sont  abevre         du  feu  de  covoitise; 

C'est  li  feus  au  deable         qui  embrase  et  atise 
Les  cuers  ou  ne  se  fiert         If  solaus  de  jostise. 

40.  [S]us  toutes  genz  seront         cil  usurier  boule 
Qui  ont  l'avoir  aus  povres         sorbi  et  engoule. 
He  Dex!  mout  seront  ore         cil  vil  mastin  foule 
Qui  ont  par  lor  angoisse         le  monde  triboule. 

41.  [L]es  bones  genz  qu'il  ont         tra'i  vilainement, 
Li  barat  qu'il  ont  fet        et  li  conchiement, 
Tesmoigneront  contr'aus         molt  esforciement : 
Contr'aus  dira  li  juges         sentence  et  jugement. 

42.  [0]rguex  est  encruchiez         mes  il  descruchera, 
Li  orguex  de  ce  monde        humiliez  sera 

42  a,  d  Ms.  Orgoil. 


11]       LE     CONTENZ     DOD     MONDE    BY    RENAUD    D'aNDON         63 

Quant  li  soverains  juges        trestouz  nos  jugera; 

Orguex  chai  du  ciel,    [fo.  143,  a,  1]    james  n'i  montera. 

43.  [A]vec  les  orgueilleus         seront  examine 
TJne  gent  qui  au  siecle        n'ont  pas  droit  cheminS 
Et  ont   autrui   domage         volu   et   destine; 

De  l'espine  d'envie        ont  leur  cuers  espinS. 

44.  [Mo]  It  a  qui  bien  porpense        male  chose  en  en  vie; 
Envieus  n'envieuse        n'avront  ja  bone  vie; 

En  l'anui  son  voisin         se  baigne  et  glorefie; 

Tant  vuet  l'autrui  domage         que  son  preu  en  oublie. 

45.  [U]ne  autre  gent  i  a        fole  et  desafievee 
Qui  ont  a  loy  de  beste         nature  vilenee; 
Sachiez  la  creature         qui  einsi  s'est  menee 
Assez  miex  li  venist         qu'el  ne  fust  onques  nee. 

46.  [Mo] It  vaut  poi  ceste  gloire         et  molt  est  chier  vendue 
Quant  toute  leur  deserte         leur  en  est  ci  rendue; 

Li  cors  se  gaste  et  font         et  Fame  en  est  perdue 
Et  au  gibet  d'enfer        encroee  et  pendue. 

47.  [Q]uant  nos  devant  le  juge         serons  trestuit  venu, 
Li  plus  sage  du  monde         seront  por  fol  tenu; 

Li  juges  savra  tout,        le  gros  et  le  menu, 

N'i  avra  riens  covert,         tout  ert  apert  et  nu.     [fo.  143,  a,  2] 

48.  [U]ne  autre  gent  i  a,         qui  de  Deu  soit  maudite, 
Qui  decoivent  le  monde:         ce  sont  faus  ypocrite 

Qui  ont  par  vaine  gloire         la  char  vaine  et  aflite; 
II  en  sont  ja  payez        si  en  ont  leur  merite. 

49.  [Mo] It  fet  a  redouter        cil  juges,  ce  me  semble, 
Qui  touz  nos  jugera,        ames  et  cors  ensemble; 

45  a.  MS.  desafienee. 


64  JENKINS  [12 

Dex  set  tot  et  voit  tot,        nus  [hons]  riens  ne  li  emble; 
Quant  je  bien  m'en  porpens        toute  la  char  me  tremble. 

50.  Quant  devant  lui  sera        touz  li  mondes  presenz, 
Corrompuz  n'iert  cil  juges         par  dons  ne  par  presenz; 
Prises  seront  les  choses         legieres  et  pesanz; 
Estront  de  chien  vaudront         estellins  et  besanz. 

51.  [L]i  juge  de  cest  monde         qui  donent  les  sentences 
Par  presenz,  par  biaus  dons,         laschent  leur  penitances; 
Leur  pois  n'est  mie  bons        ne  joustes  leur  balances; 
Joustise  est  esclopee        et  droiz  vet  a  potences. 

52.  [L]i  juge  de  cest  monde         ont  la  main  si  enfrune 
Por  recevoir  les  dons,         por  prendre  la  pecune, 

Qu'il  ne  voient  droit  fere         au  soleil  n'a  la  lune; 
II  nos  vendent  jostise         qui  doit  estre  commune. 

53.  [I]l  tornent  et  bestornent    [fo.  143,  b,  1]    les  droiz  et 

l'escripture 
Et  colourent  les  faus  et  leur  donent  painture; 
Dex  set  tout  et  voit  tout,         rien  ne  vaut  coverture; 
II  voit  dedenz  le  cors         et  partout  trove  ordure. 

54.  [I]l  n'est  riens  tant  soit  fete         en  repot  n'en  cele 
Qui  ne  soit  a  eel  jour         seii  et  revele; 

Ce  que  fut  mal  jugie         sera  tout  rapele; 
Cil  qui  les  autres  plument         seront  tirepele. 

55.  [N]e  seront  pas  chaucie.        de  la  saiede  Bruges 
Cil  gloton  pautonier         qui  ci  poient  de  druges. 

Ou  sera  leur  destors?.        Ou  sera  leur  refuges? 
Dex  sera  querellierres        et  avocat  et  juges. 

56.  En  acusant  dira:         Bien  pert  que  poi  m'amastes, 
Quant  j'oi  f aim  entre  vos         mangier  ne  me  donastes ; 

50  b.  MS.  preaens.  51  d.  Ms.  droit.  54  c.  fut]  us.  sera. 


13]       LE    CONTENZ     DOU     MONDE    BY     RENAUD    BRANDON         65 

J'oi  mesese  de  soif,         onques  ne  m'abevrastes ; 
Je  fui  nuz,  sanz  ostel,         onques  ne  m'ostelastes. 

57.  Quant  avront  escoute,         respondu  ou  nie 
Qu'il  onques  ne  le  virent        nu  ne  desabrie, 
Mort  de  faim  ne  de  soil'         ne  d'ostel  desbrie, 
Si  avez,  dira  Dex,         l'avez  vos  oublie? 

58.  [E]n  aligant  voudra        prover  s'entencion  [fo.  143,  &,  2] 
Cil  sages  avocaz         dont  je  faz  mension; 

Por  metre  ses  contreres         a  redargucion 
Einsi  aliguera         sens  et  discrecion: 

59.  [V]ous  me  veistes  bien  quant  mes  povres  veistes, 
Mes  d'aus  qui  sont  mi  membre  garde  vous  ne  preistes; 
Ce  qu'aus  membres  veastes         au   cors  escondeistes, 

Ne  feistes  moi  ce         qu'a  l'un  d'eus  ne  feistes. 

60.  [L]ors  dira  sa  sentence  qui  est  ferme  et  estable, 
Et  dira  come  juges         parole  esperitable : 

Fuiez,  li  maleoit,         en  paine  parclurable 
Avesques  les  deables,         si  soiez  de  leur  table ! 

61.  [N']i  avra  qui  entende         a  former  son  apiau, 
Xe  seront  pas  en  vente         sainture[s]  ne  chapiau; 
Li  miex  vestuz  n'avra         que  les  os,  que  la  piau; 
Tex  trame  escarlate         cui  faudront  viex   drapiau. 

62.  N'i  avra  chevel  mort        ne  autre  chose  aposte, 
L'en  porra  tout  veoir         et  devant  et  en  coste; 
N'i  avra  nul  ne  nule         qui  ait  robe  son  oste, 

Car  n'i  avra  ja  chose         celee  ne  reposte. 

63.  Ne  seront  pas  si  cointes        ne  si  ensafrenees 

Les  dames  qui  se  sont  [fo.  144,  a,  1]  folement  demenees. 

57  a.  ms.  Quant  cil.  59  6.  ms.  ne  vous. 

5 


66  JENKINS  [14 

II  semble  qui  les  voit         que  ce  soient  poupees, 
Mes  el[s]  iront  en  chief         toutes  developees. 

64.  [I/]  en  porra  tout  veoir         et  devant  et  darrieres, 
Les  dames  seront  nues         come  les  chamberieres ; 
Tex  tiennent  ci  por  beles         qui  nel  seront  la  gu[i]eres, 
Car  miex  que  les  torsiaus         vaudront  les  sarpillieres. 

65.  [L]es  musartes  achatent         fardes  et  tanqueliques, 
En  ce  metent  .xx.  souz         qui  ne  vaut  pas  .ii.  pipes. 
Bien  cuident  de  leur  gorges         que  ce  soient  reliques, 
Plus  venimeuses  sont         que  n'est  .i.  baseliques. 

66.  [D'] autre  part  verra  l'en         jouer  as  trembleriaus 
Ces  ribaus  de  taverne,         ces  mauves  harmeriaus. 
Touz  jors  n'avront  il  mie         leur  bons  ne  leur  aviaus, 
Ne  se  porra  covrir         baraz  ne  tremeriaus. 

67.  [N']i  avra  due  ne  conte         ne  roy  n'empereour 
Qui  ost  les  ieux  lever         contre  son  sauveour; 

Lors  devront  avoir  crieme         cil  ribaut  licheour 
Quant  li  saint  et  les  saintes         trembleront  de  paour. 

68.  [N']i  avra  ja  si  cointe         qui  ost  les  ieux  lever, 

Et  por  ce  se  doit  Ten         ca  aval  mout  pener    [fo.  144,  a,  2] 
De  soffrir  une  paine         por  si  grant  eschiver; 
Miex  vaut  que  Fen  se  gart         que  l'en  se  laist  tuer. 

69.  II  fet  trop  bon  soffrir        un  poi  de  penitance 
Por  la  paine  eschiver         de  si  pesme  sentence; 
Mes  nos  volons  avoir        les  oues  et  la  letance, 
Nous  volons  ci  l'enprunt,         la  volons  Paquitance. 

70.  [S]e  nos  enpruntons  ci,         ci  nos  covient  paier, 
Que  la  n'avons  nos  gage         qui  nos  puist  aplegier. 

66  d.  ms.   barat. 


15]       LE     CONTENZ    DOU     MONDE     BY    RENAUD    d'aNDON         67 

Qui  ci  corrouce  Deu         ci  l'estuet  apaier; 
Se  la  char  est  trop  gaye         ci  l'estuet  ehastier. 

71.  [S]e  la  char  est  trop  gaye,        ci  la  covient  donter, 
Car  la  char  ne  se  paine         que  de  l'ame  ahonter, 

Et  qui  lairoit  la  char         a  son  voloir  monter 

II  faudroit  a  son  esme         quant  il  devroit  conter. 

72.  [L]a  char  si  est  a  Fame         quanqu'ele  puet  contraire: 
L'ame  demande  sac        et  la  char  pene  vere, 

L'ame  veut  le  bacin,         la  char  vet  le  vin  trere, 
La  char  veut  dras  de  lin         et  l'ame  veut  la  here. 

73.  [L'jame  crie:  Je  voil        letues  et  croisson, 
Et  la  char  dit  encontre :         Je  voil  char  et  poisson. 
L'arme  dit:  Fol  pech[i]erre,    [fo.  144,  b,  1]    va  a  confession 
Et  la  char  dit  encontre:         J'oi  du  mortier  le  son. 

74.  [L'jame  et  la  char  estrive[nt]         en  itel[e]  maniere 
Si  tire  l'une  avant        et  l'autre  [tire]  arriere; 

La  char  veut  estre  dame        et  porter  la  baniere 
Qui  par  raison  delist        estre  sa  chamberiere. 

75.  [S]e  vous  volez  au  siecle         netement  cheminer 
Et  de  cele  sentence         estordre  et  eschiver, 

II  vos  covient  la  char        batre  et  decepliner; 
Se  nos  enpruntons  ci,         ci  nos  covient  finer. 

76.  [Q]ui  se  sent  endetez        fox  est  s'il  ne  s'aquite, 
Aquitons  nos  tandis         com  la  mort  nos  respite. 
La  mort  vient  en  aguet         que  que  fox  se  delite, 

A  l'un  vient  en  apert        et  a  l'autre  soubite. 

77.  [L] a  mort  qui  vient  plus  tost        que  quarriaus  ne  destent 
L'un  tresbuche  a  ses  piez,        l'autre  laist  en  estant; 

73  c.  MS.  va  a  ta  c.  75  c.  MS.  nos. 


68  JENKINS  [16 

El[e]  laist  le  viel  home         sa  roigne  degratant 
Et  prent  [le]  jovencel         qui  se  cointoioit  tant. 

78.  [T]uit  somes  d'un  aage         quant  a  la  mort  atendre, 
Car  li  arz  est  tenduz        et  touz  prez  de  destendre; 

Nus  n'a  point  de  demain,         ce  doit  chascuns  entendre ; 

[fo.  144,  b,  2] 
Qu'il  soit  touz  aprestez         quant  Dex  le  voudra  prendre. 

79.  [S]e  nous  avons  le  tens         folement  despendu, 
Aquitons  nos  a  Deu         qui  a  son  arc  tendu, 

Et  s'il  avant  destent         que  nos  avrons  rendu, 
N'avrons  de  quoi  finer,         trop  avrons  atendu. 

80.  Aquitons  nos  tandis         com  somes  au  desore(s), 
Ainz  que  la  mort  nos  morde,         qui  tot  mort  et  devore. 
Fox  est  qui  prent  respit         d'une  toute  seule  hore, 
Car  nus  tant  ne  se  haste         qu'i  ne  face  demore. 

81.  Je  qui  hete  les  autres         sui  li  mains  aprestez, 
Li  mains  aisiez  d'atendre         et  li  plus  endetez; 
J'ai  vers  Deu  guerroie         des  biens  qu'il  m'a  prestez. 
Si  ai  fet  de  mon  cors         les  larges  foletez. 

82.  [S]e  Dex  n'en  a  merci,         ja  ne  m'en  verrai  quite [s]. 
Sire  Dex,  qui  es  cors         pacefiez  habites, 

Tot  ades  te  rent  graces         dont  tu  tant  me  respites, 
Tes  vertuz  sont  plus  granz         que  ne  sont  mes  merites. 

83.  [H]e  biau  douz  sire  Dex,         par  ta  sainte  pitie, 
Des  que  ton  plaisir  est         que  tant  m'as  respitie, 

Du  lien  me  deslie         ou  Satan  m'a  gitie 

Et  me  done  conquerre     [fo.  145,  a,  1]     ta  tres  douce  amistie. 

84.  [J]e  sui  com  li  oyseaus         qui  au  laz  bret  et  crie, 
Qui  ne  s'en  puet  oster        se  on  ne  li  aie. 

80  b.  MS.  nos  mort. 


17J       LE     CONTENZ     DOU     MONDE    BY     RENAUD    D'aNDON         69 

Biau  douz  Dex  debonaires,         fei  tost  si  m'en  deslie, 
Je  ne  m'en  puis  aidier        si  voi  bien  ma  folie. 

85.  [J]e  sui  miex  comparez         que  chose  que  je  sache 
AToysel  qui  au  laz         se  debat  et  desache: 

Fere  cuide  son  preu         mes  il  fet  son  domache, 
Car  li  laz  plus  estraint         que  il  plus  tire  et  sache. 

86.  [J]e  ne  sui  pas  cheiiz        en  .i.  laz  seulement, 
Ainz  me  sui  embatuz        en  plusors  folement, 

Car  l'arz  estoit  tenduz         par  grant  detenement; 
Dex  m'en  git,  si  li  plest,         cui  j'en  pri  doucement. 

87.  [QJuant  li  un[s]  de  ces  laz  '      qui  si  me  tienent  cort 
Me  lasche  tant  ne  quant,         li  autres  serre  et  tort; 
Morz  sui  s'a  cest  besoing        ne  m'a'ide  et  secort 
Xostre  dame  des  anges         qui  mout  bien  est  de  cort. 

88.  [H]e  douce  mere  Deu,         glorieuse  Marie, 
Fontaine  de  pitie,         qui  ja  jour  n'ert  tarie, 
Aide  moi,  se  te  plaist,         j'ai  mestier  de  t'aie, 

A  ton  filz  me  racorde,         a  ton  filz  me  ralie.    [fo.  145,  a,  2] 

89.  [D]ouce  dame  piteuse,         en  cui  mout  je  m'afi, 
Bien  me  poez  aidier,         car  je  le  sai  de  fi; 
Depriez  vostre  pere,         commandez  vostre  fi 

Qu'i  me  face  habitant         de  son  bon  edefi. 

90.  [D]ame  en  cui  maint  pitiez        et  deboneretez, 
Priez  vostre  chier  filz         por  touz  les  endetez ; 
Dame,  nos  vos  disons         toutes  noz  privetez, 
Nus  n'i  metra  conseil         se  vous  ne  le  metez. 

91.  [D]ame  plaine  de  grace,        desus  toutes  eslite, 
Dex  en  vos  regarder        se  soulace  et  delite. 

84  d.  MS.  pus.  86  d.  ms.  gite.  87  d.  MS.  La  dame. 


70  JENKINS  [18 

Grant  fiance  avons  tuit,        dame,  en  vostre  merite, 
Si  venons  tuit  a  toi        ausi  com  a  garite. 

92.  [D]ame,  je  vieng  a  vos,         pech[i]erres  et  coupable[s], 
Que  vos  me  soiez  murs         et  chastiaus  desf ensable  [s] 
Encontre  Panemi         qui  tant  est  decevable  [s]  ; 

J'en  serai  vostre  hons  liges         et  vostre  redevable  [s] . 

93.  [D]ame'  de  paradis         en  cui  touz  biens  abonde, 
Qui  n'estes,  douce  dame,         premiere  ne  seconde, 
Deprie  ton  chier  filz,         le  roi  de  tout  le  monde, 

Que  de  touz  noz  pechiez        nos  face  pur(s)  et  monde. 

94.  Eenaut  d'Andon  qui  parle    [fo.  145,  b,  1]    n'en  veut  ore 

plus  dire, 
Mes  chacuns  et  chacune         qui  ces  vers  orra  dire 
Deprist  le  haut  seignor         qui  governe  l'empire 
Qu'en  ceste  mortel  vie         nos  doint  s'amor  eslire. 
Explicit  le  contenz  dou  monde. 

Glossary. 

abevrer  39,  56.  aloignement  16. 

achoisoner  Id.  aloignier  15. 

acuser  25,  56.  alores  25,  26. 

adversere  adj.  19.  amende    3.     Herzog,    Streit- 

s'aesier  33.  fragen,  Vol.   I,  p.    98,   n. 

(an1  ire)  aflit  48.  would     derive    this     word 

aguet,  en  — ,  76.  from    Lat.    emenda,    from 

ahonter  71.  emere. 
aidier  84d  Ind.  Ps.  3  ai'e  84b,     amender  3,  18. 

aide  87c;  aide  moi  88c.  apaier  70. 

aisie  de  81b.  apetisier  4.     More  commonly 

alentir  25.  apeticier,  as  G.   Guiart,  I, 

alliguer  23,  24.  p.  169  :  apetice:  faitice;  but 

91  d.  toi]  read  vos?     Cp.  93  c. 


19]       LE    CONTENZ     DOU     MONDE    BY     RENAUD    D'aNDON         71 


cp.  apetise :  ise  Audef roi  le 
Bastart,  ed.  Brakelmann, 
p.  108 ;  :  brise,  Rom.  xrv, 
p.  474. 

apiau  61. 

aplegier  18,  70. 

(apondre)  ptcp.  apost  62. 

aquitance  69. 

(asseurement)   3b. 

assiver  10a.  '  share  equally,' 
'  share.'  Cp.  Godefroy  es- 
sever  2,  and  the  variant 
assever  for  essever  1.  The 
etymon  is  exaequare  (A. 
Thomas,  Melanges  d'Ety- 
mologie  frangaise,  1902,  p. 
72)  whence  essiuer,  as  iuer, 
iwer,  aequare,  iuel,  iwel 
aequalem.  desiuer  *dis- 
aequare  is  also  known 
(Brand,  Studien  zur  Ge- 
schichte  v.  inlaut.  qu  in 
N  ordfranhreich,  1897,  p. 
35),  also  desaiver  *disad- 
aequare(?)  G.  Guiart  I, 
1^4:  granz  fossez  La  faiz 
ou  le  plain  desayve,  A 
cisel,  en  roche  nayve. 

Str.  34  lives,  trives  ( :  vi- 
res) show  the  same  change 
of  iu  to  iv,  a  change  wide- 
spread in  the  second  half 
of  the  thirteenth  century 
(Rustebuef,  Rose,  G.  Gui- 
art, Angier)  but  not  in  the 
north     (Ph.    de    Beauma- 


noir)     nor     in     the     east 

(Poeme  moral), 
atisier  39. 
avel,  pi.  aviaus  66. 
avocateau  9. 

Barat   7. 

barater  8. 

barre  29b. 

baselique  65. 

barz  (pi.)  'bass'  7c.  The 
correct  form  (in  the  plu- 
ral) is  rather  bars;  cp.  the 
rime  in  Helinand's  Vers  de 
la  Mort  xlvii,  5,  and,  for 
the  etymology,  Revue  des 
Lang.  rom.  xlviii,  p.  193. 

berole  2a.  Apparently  the 
same  word  as  berele,  '  agi- 
tation,' '  dispute,'  which  is 
used  by  G.  Guiart  (i,  p. 
298)  and  by  Rustebuef, 
Vie  Ste.  Marie  VEgiptienne 
325 :  sanz  vos  sui  en  fort 
berele,  Sanz  vos  ai  perdu 
ma  querele.  Cp.  the  doub- 
let rossignol-rossignel  in 
Rose  (Auler,  op.  cit.,  p. 
81). 

besant  50. 

bestorner  53,  20. 

bobancier  '  arrogant  '11. 

bouler  40a  (dht  xiv  century) 
'  roll,'  here  apparently  '  de- 
ceive,' as  in  G.  Guiart  I,  p. 
133 :  Bien  a  leur  gent  este 
boulee.     Cp.  bole  *  deceit/ 


72 


JENKINS 


[20 


(Camelin)  sausses  camelines 
32d. 

cele,  en  — ,  54a. 

chamberiere  64. 

chapiau  61. 

chatel,  chate  6c,  35d.  Chate, 
re-made  from  the  nom. 
chates,  is  used  also  by  Rus- 
tebuef  (:  preste  De  la  Po- 
vrete  R.,  7-8)  and  by  Jean 
de  Meung  (ed.  Michel  n, 
p.  358).  Ebeling  seems  to 
me  over-cautious  in  not  ad- 
mitting the  rime  coste: 
oste(l),  Auberee  207.  See 
his  remark,  p.  50. 

chief,  aler  en  — ,  63d;  estre 
au  — ,  lOd. 

choe  14a. 

dervoiant  31a. 

cointe  63,  68. 

se  cointoier  77d. 

colourer  53b  '  palliate  '  '  ex- 
cuse.' Cp.  coloration  in 
this  sense,  used  by  G. 
Chastellain  (dht). 

comparer  85  a. 

comperer  32b. 

conchiement  16b,  41b. 

conchier   36c. 

conseil,  pi.  consaus  8,  12. 

contraire  'injury'  19d,  58c; 
adj.  72a. 

cort,  estre  bien  de  — ,  87d; 
clorre  bien  sa  — ,  22a 
'  make  oneself  safe,'  '  take 


good  care  of  oneself.'     Cf. 

Li  Proverbe  au  Vilain,  No. 

191 :  Bien  a  sa  court  close, 

cui  si  voisin  aiment. 
correes  (pi.)  6b. 
crieme,  avoir  — ,  67c. 
croisson  '  water-cress,'  73a. 

Darrieres  64a. 

debonerete  90a. 

decepliner  75c. 

decret  29c. 

degrater  'scratch'  77c;  cp. 
G.  Guiart  n,  p.  20,  where 
the  word  seems  to  be  used 
with  comic   intent. 

deprier  93c;  Ps.  Sbj.  3  de- 
prist  (=  deprit)  94c. 

desabrie  57b.  Cp.  G.  Paris, 
Melanges  linguistiques,  p. 
453. 

desachier  85b. 

desafiever  45a.  Wanting  in 
Godefroy;  cp.  prov.  afevar 
'  infeoder '  and  O.  Fr.  des- 
fieve  '  depossede.' 

desavancier  lib. 

desbarete  '  discomfited,'  *  de- 
stroyed,' 35a. 

desbrie(  ?)  57c.  Cp.  G.Paris, 
Melanges  linguistiques,  p. 
453.  The  occurrence  of 
desbrie  just  underneath  de- 
sabrie (57b)  seems  to  me 
suspicious,  especially  as  a 
verb  *desbrier  or  *brier  is 
otherwise    quite    unknown. 


21]       LE     COSTTEXZ    DOU     MOXDE     BY     RENAUD    d'ANDOST         73 


Possibly  the  correct  read- 
ing is  desprie,  '  deprie ' 
*  desinvite,'  and  the  mean- 
ing '  refused  shelter/  an- 
swering to  56d :  Je  fui  nuz, 
sans  ostel,  onques  ne  m'os- 
telastes. 

In  0.  Fr.  the  commoner 
expressions  with  ostel  are : 
querre  ostel,  tenir  ostel, 
prendre  ostel,  avoir  ostel, 
pr ester  ostel;  the  shift 
from  the  literal  meaning 
'lodging'  to  the  fig.  use 
'  shelter '  '  hospitality  '  ap- 
pears in  avoir  ostel  en  mai- 
son,  Partonopeus  7855, 
mercier  qqn  de  son  ostel, 
avoir  chier  Vostel  de  qqn, 
Crestien  de  Troyes,  Charete 
960-1.  Parallel  to  pren- 
dre ostel  we  have  prendre 
herbergement  (Marie  de 
France,  Chievrefeuil  34)  ; 
like  avoir  ostel  is  avoir  her- 
berjage  (Beroul,  Tristran 
I860).  So  Jean  le  Mar- 
chant,  p.  135 :  Li  clers  ala 
ostel  querant  .  .  .  Deman- 
da  por  Deu  herbergage. 

With  prier  we  find  Si  li 
(var.  le)  prie  de  herber- 
gier  Charete  2036,  Vos 
vuel  proiier  del  remenoir 
ibid.  142  (so  Erec  6505, 
cp.  4062,  4623),  de  boivre 


ne  de  mengier  Ne  la  co- 
vient  ja  mes  proiier  ibid. 
4191.  From  infinitive- 
substantive  ('  ask  to  ')  we 
pass  to  substantives  ('  ask 
for ')  :  prier  qqn  de  joie, 
Maetzner,  Lieder  x,  30 ; 
prier  qqn  de  pitie  ibid. 
xxvii,  14  ;  de  conseil  ibid. 
xlii,  47;  de  mestier 
Bartsch,  Romanzen  u.  Pas- 
tourellen  n,  75,  21,  while 
prier  qqn  d'amor  (cp. 
Ebeling,  Auberee,  p.  62) 
has  remained  into  the 
modern  language.  There 
seems  therefore  no  reason 
to  doubt  the  legitimacy  of 
the  expression  prier  qqn 
d'ostel,  or  d'ostelage. 

Of  deprier,  dht  found 
no  instance  recorded  older 
than  the  xvith  century 
(R.  Estienne),  but  it  is 
well  known  that  both  the 
older  and  the  modern  lan- 
guage create  with  extreme 
readiness  these  compounds 
with  des-,  de-  (cp.  Gode- 
froy  s.  v.  des-,  and  Nyrop, 
Gram.  hist,  in,  p.  213 :  On 
forme  de  ces  verbes  tous 
les  jours).  G.  Guiart,  for 
example,  uses  desr enter  (i, 
29),  desconter  (i,  44),  des- 
terrer  (i,  61),  descheviller 


74 


JENKINS 


[22 


(i,  142),  etc.;  Jean  le 
Marchant  creates  equally 
unstable  compounds :  des- 
enfler,  p.  130,  desestre,  p. 
174,  desardoir,  p.  169,  etc. 
descruchier  42a  (cp.  encru- 
chier,  ibid.)  The  word 
means  '  fall  from  a  height ' 
or  transitively  '  throw 
down.'  Cp.  G.  de  Degul- 
leville:  Ainsi  comme  le 
vent  trebuche  Le  fruit  des 
arbres  et  descruche  (Gode- 
froy  s.  v.  descrochier)  ; 
Gilles  li  Muisis  i,  p.  102: 
S'en  voit  on  aucuns  [the 
rich]  descrukier,  De  si 
haut  en  bas  trebukier;  G. 
Guiart  I,  p.  303 :  Quant 
Tyois  qui  entour  conver- 
sent  Voient  le  dragon  tres- 
buchier  Et  Vaigle  dore 
descruchier,  Li  plus  hardis 
.  ...  en  fuie  tome;  Am- 
broise,  Hist,  de  la  Guerre 
Sainte,  10071.  A  variant 
appears  to  be  descrunhier 
(Godef.  s.  v.). 

Contrariwise,  encruchier 
(wanting  in  Godef  roy) 
appears  to  mean  '  place  on 
high'  'lodge.'  I  have 
found  but  two  other  in- 
stances of  this  verb.  Jean 
le  Marchant,  p.  93 :  Car 
sus   un   de   ses   piez   che'i 


Tout  dou  tranchant  une 
coigniee  Qui  ert  sus  le  char 
encruchiee;  G.  Guiart  i,  p. 
189 :  Tant  de  grosses  pier- 
res  i  gastent,  Et  si  souvent 
la  les  entruchent  (1.  en- 
cruchent)  C'une  grant 
partie  en  [du  mur]  trebu- 
chent.  We  may  have  to  do 
here  with  the  word  *krouka 
assumed  by  Schuchardt, 
ZfRP.  xxvi,  p.  316,  mean- 
ing '  heap  '  '  pile  '  and  of 
Celtic  origin ;  cp.  '  pile  on ' 
and  '  pile  off '  in  English 
(colloquial). 

deserte  46b. 

deseures,  estre  en  — ,  26c. 

desfensable  92b. 

destendre  77a. 

destinee  28d. 

destiner  43c. 

destor  55c. 

detenement  86c. 

developer  63d. 

dilactoire  29b. 

discrecion  58d. 

drapiau  6 Id. 

druges,  de  — ,  55b.  For  the 
etymon,  cp.  Schlutter, 
ALL.  xiii,  p.  287  (Herzog, 
ZfRP.  xxviii,  p.  627). 
Druge  =  '  surabondance' 
(Scheler)  fits  very  well 
here,  also  to  the  passage 
Les  deus  Trovebrs  Ribauz 


23]       LE    CONTENZ    DOU    MONDE     BY     KENAUD    BRANDON         75 


12 :  Certes  ce  n'est  mie  de 
druges  Que  tu  es  si  chaitis 
et  las,  where  Bartsch-Horn- 
ing  translate  '  moquerie, 
plaisanterie/  We  may  add 
G.  Guiart  i,  p.  247:  (U 
rois)  Son  courroux  ne  tint 
pas  a  druges,  'the  king 
held  not  his  anger  to 
be  excessive  (superfluous, 
idle)/  Cp.  drugier  '  pous- 
ser  abondamment/ 

Eden  89d. 

s'embatre  86b. 

emprendre  6c. 

encroer  46d. 

encruchier   42a;   cp.    descru- 

chier,  note, 
s'en deter  35b. 
enfrun  12d,  52a. 
engouler  40b. 
engrigier  18c. 
enromancier  lid. 
ensafrene  63a. 
entredire  18c. 
errant  2d. 
cscarlate  61d. 
eschiver  68c,  69b. 
escloper  51d. 
escondire  59c. 
esforciement  41c. 
esliever  12b. 
esme  7 Id. 
espiner  43  d. 


estable  60a. 

estellin  50d. 

estordre  75b. 

estovoir  70c. 

estre    Imp.    Sbj.    6    feiissent 

13b. 
estriver  74a. 
estront  5d. 
examiner  43a,  23c. 

Fardes  (pi.)  65a. 

se  ferir  39d. 

fesant  33c. 

fiance  91c. 

fi,  savoir  de  — ,  89b. 

fichier  9b. 

finer  75d,  79d. 

folete  8 Id. 

forre  6a. 

fouler  40c. 

fournee  28b. 

fuite    7a   ' trick/    'evasion.' 

Garder,  ne  —  Teure  27c. 

garite,  venir  a  — ,  9 Id. 

se  gaster  15c. 

gencive  34a. 

gibet  46d. 

gitier    83c,    Ps.    Sbj.    3    git 

86d    (ms.    gite,   with    one 

syllable     too     many.     Cp. 

giet    Pean    Gatineau    985, 

1562.) 
glise,  terre  — ,  4b. 
se  glorefier  44c. 


76 


JENKINS 


[24 


glotir  33d. 
(guieres)  64c. 
guiler  8d. 

Habitant  89d. 

happer  32b. 

harmerel  66b.  Godefroy  has 
but  one  example  of  this 
word  s.  v.  hermerel;  he 
conjectures  '  sorte  de  va- 
let^?) 

here  72d. 

hetier  81a. 

huer  8a. 

humilier  42b. 

Jagoit  ce  que  10c. 
jaiole  2d. 

Laissier  Ps.  Ind.  3  laist  18c 
(=  lait) ;  Ps.  Sbj.  3  laist 
68d;  cond.  3  lairoit  71c. 

langueter  10b. 

large  '  extreme  '  81d. 

lechieresse  34d. 

letance,  vouloir  avoir  les 
oues  et  la  — ,  69c  '  want  to 
have  both  the  eggs  (of 
the  female  fish)  and  the 
sperm '  (of  the  male) ; 
hence  '  want  more  than  is 
possible.' 

letue  73a. 

licheor  67c. 

live  34c  '  league.'  Cp.  assi- 
ver,  note. 


Membre   59b. 

mension,  faire  — ,  58b. 

messe  56c. 

meure,  more  26d. 

meiirer  15d. 

morsel  32c. 

mortier,  o'ir  le  son  du  — , 
73d.  The  expression 
means,  '  to  hear  sounds 
suggesting  preparations  for 
a  luxurious  meal/  spices 
being  •  formerly  ground 
fresh  daily.  So  Rustebuef, 
LaVoie  de  Paradis,  401  ff. : 
Glotonie  .... 
Befet     sovent    le    mortier 

bruire 
Enchiez    Hasart   le    taver- 

nier  .... 
Ne  quiert  oir  que  bole  et 

feste  .  .  .  . 
Qui   est   ses   keus   a   assez 

paine  .... 
Jubinal's  translation,  mor- 
tier =  carnet    de     des,    is 
incorrect. 

muer  17b. 

musart  65a.     « 

Netement  75a. 

(nonchaloir)  ptcp.  pr.  non- 
chalissant  19a.  A  parallel 
to  the  more  common  0.  Fr. 
vaillissant,  and  to  be  ex- 
plained in  the  same  way; 
cp.  Risop,  Studien  zur  Ge- 


25]       LE     CONTENZ    DOU     MONDE     BY    RENAUD    DANDON         77 


schichte  der  frz.  Conjuga- 
tion auf  -ir,  p.  81. 

Oiseuse,  metre  en  — ,  38c. 
ongle,  payer  sus  1'  — ,  14b. 
opposer  22b. 
osteler  56d. 

Pacefier  82b. 

painture,  doner  — ,  53b. 

pardurable  60c. 

pautonier  55b. 

pecune   12a,   52b. 

pene  vere  72b. 

perdriz  33c. 

pereceus  38a. 

peremptoire  29a. 

pesme  69b,  28a. 

petitet,  trop  — ,  14c. 

potences  (pi.)  51d. 

poupee  63c. 

privete   90c. 

plumer  '  plunder '  54d. 

poe    (f.  of  paon)    14b. 

poe   ■  paw  '  14c. 

poi  '  too  few  '  2c. 

poier  '  grow  in  fortune,' 
'flourish'  55b. 

poivre  trape  32d.  One  of 
the  many  espiceries  popu- 
lar in  medieval  cookery, 
poivre  (pi.)  indicating  the 
various  kinds  of  pepper 
(and  perhaps  other  spices) 
used  in  making  sauces, 
preserves    and    drinks.     I 


find  mention  of  poivre 
chaut,  p.  aigre,  p.  aigret, 
p.  long,  etc.  These  when 
ground  in  a  mortar  (cp. 
73d,  o'ir  le  son  du  mortier) 
and  mixed  with  wine,  vine- 
gar, etc.,  gave  the  chief 
flavor  to  the  preparation. 
Poivre  seems  to  have  been 
used  also  in  the  sense  of 
'  powdered  spice  '  in  gen- 
eral ;  the  collection  of  cook- 
ing receipts  (c.  1300)  pub- 
lished by  Douet  d'Arcq 
(Bib.  de  VEcole  des  Char- 
tes  5,  i  (1860),  p.  207  ff.) 
mentions  poivre  aigre,  fet 
de  gingenbre  et  de  canele. 
Similarly,  pepper  is  not 
specifically  mentioned  in 
the  confection  of  the  peve- 
rada  described  in  the  Libro 
dell  a  Cocina  (early  xivth 
century,  ed.  Zambrini, 
1863,  Scelta  xl).  This 
sauce  consisted  of  toast, 
saffran,  spices,  wine  or 
vinegar,  etc. 

On  the  principle  pars 
pro  toto  it  is  likely  that 
poivre  was  also  used  in  the 
sense  of  '  vin  d'espicerie' 
in  Roman  de  la  Rose  (ed. 
Michel)  i,  p.  362: 
Dames    lor    braceront    tel 

poivre  .... 


78 


JENKINS 


[26 


where  the  figurative  inter- 
pretation need  not  affect 
the  argument  (cp.  bracier 
levain  '  foment  rebellion/ 
E.  Deschamps  i,  p.  286). 
Similarly,  in  later  times, 
piment  means  both  '  spiced 
wine  '  and  '  pepper '  (cap- 
sicum, or  red  pepper). 

It  is  more  difficult  to 
ascertain  the  precise  mean- 
ing of  trape,  a  form  sup- 
ported here  by  the  rich 
(over-rich)  rime.  Three 
alternatives  suggest  them- 
selves : 

(1)  trape  'instrument 
de  cuisine '  is  more  specifi- 
cally defined  by  Cotgrave: 
trape  de  feu,  '  a  fire-panne, 
or  panne  for  coles/  which 
suggests  the  preparations 
called  brases  (see  the  col- 
lection of  receipts  pub- 
lished by  Paul  Meyer, 
Bull.  Soc.  d.  Anc.  Textes 
Frc.,  1893,  p.  55,  n.) ; 

(2)  trape  =  '  eau-de-vie ' 
is  instanced  by  Vidossich 
(ZfRP.  xxx  (1906)  p. 
202)  who  associates  the 
word  with  OHG.  *trab 
(inferred  sg.  of  Treber) 
and  with  Eomance  grapa; 
hence  trape  =  '  brandied '  ? 

(3)  trape  =  '  macre  ' 


'  water-chestnut/  fruit  of 
Trapa  natans  (Rolland, 
Flore  populaire  vi,  p.  6), 
the  flour  of  which,  it  is 
stated,  has  been  much 
used  in  the  West  of 
France  as  "  thickening " 
to  various  bouillies,  no 
doubt  also  as  dressing  to 
spiced  preparations.  Cp. 
the  preserve  called  Pyne- 
iee  (P.  Meyer,  No.  21)  : 
Vyn,  sucre,  boillez  en- 
semble, gingebras  e  meel 
.  .  .  .  e  serra  adresse  en 
cofinz  de  flor  de  chasteynz. 

porpenser  49  d,  44a. 

propose  29b  (Godefroy,  xvith 
century). 

Quanque  10b  'however  much.' 
Cp.  Tobler's  Beitrage  in, 
p.  10. 

quarrel  77a. 

querelleour  55d. 

Eacorder  88d. 

ralier  88d. 

recreant  3 Id. 

redargucion,  metre  a  — ,  58c. 

redevable  92d. 

remanant  13d. 

(repondre)  ptcp.  repost  6  2d, 

54a. 
respit,  prendre  — ,  80c. 
respitier  83b,  76b. 


27]       LE    CONTENZ    DOU     MONDE    BY     RENAUD    D'ANDON         79 


reveler  54b. 
rigler  21b. 
rive,  se  trover  a  la 
'  be  left  behind.' 
roigne  77c. 


-,  lOd. 


Sac  '  sack-cloth '   72c. 

saie  de  Bruges  55a. 

sallaire   5b. 

sarpilliere  64d. 

seignorage  3d. 

semondre   17d. 

(sevrer)    fut.  severra  37d. 

sigre  16d;  ptcp.  sigu  20a. 

sorbir  40b. 

se  soulacier  91b. 

Tanqueliques  (pi.)  65a.  A 
word  unknown  elsewhere 
in  this  form;  perhaps  a 
variant  of  triquenique 
*  bagatelle  '  '  knick-nack  ' 
of  which  Sainean  speaks 
ZfRP  xxx  (1907),  p.  272. 
Tanquelique  also  suggests 
quiquelique,  equally  ob- 
scure as  to  meaning:  the 
clerks  of  Orleans 

claiment  la  Dyaletique 
Par  mal  despit   [la]    Qui- 
quelique. 
Bataille  des  .VII.  Arts, 
15-16.      It     seems     likely 


that  we  have  here  a  bit 
of  students'  Latin  slang, 
*  quisquilica,  made  from 
Lat.  quisquilia,  '  rubbish  ' 
'  f  atras,'  on  the  model  of 
rhetorica,  etc. 

taper  32a. 

tentir  25a. 

tirepeler  '  tirailler  '  54d.  Go- 
defroy  cites  two  passages 
containing  this  word  from 
the  Ovide  moralise. 

torsel  64d. 

(traper?)  trape  32d,  see 
poivre,  note. 

( tremble rel)  jouer  as  trem- 
bleriaus  66a  =  '  trembler,' 
with  pun  on  the  expression 
jouer  au  tremerel. 

tremerel  '  cheating  at  dice  ' 
66d. 

tribouler  40d. 

trives  (pi.)  34c.  Cp.  assi- 
ver,  note. 

TJi,  <T  — ,  et  d'ier  30c. 

Veer  59c. 
venimeus    65d. 
vidier  30d. 
viex  6 Id. 
vilener  45b. 
vilte  36d. 


LA  LEGENDE  DES  "  ENFANCES "  DE  CHARLE- 
MAGNE ET  L'HISTOIRE  DE  CHARLES 
MARTEL 


PAR 

Joseph   Bedier 


I. 

Ce  qu'on  appelle  l'epopee  francaise,  ou — d'un  nom  plus 
familier  aux  hommes  du  moyen  age — les  chansons  de  geste, 
ce  sont  soixante-dix  ou  quatre-vingts  romans,  tous  du  Xlle 
ou  du  XHIe  siecle.  lis  sont  pour  la  plupart  des  romans  his- 
toriques,  car  ils  mettent  en  scene  des  personnages  qui  vecu- 
rent  reellement,  du  Ve  au  Xe  siecle,  Clovis  ou  Charles  le 
Chauve,  Girard  ou  Charlemagne,  Roland  ou  Raoul  de  Cam- 
brai.  Pourquoi  des  poetes  du  Xlle  siecle  ont-ils  pris  pour 
heros  de  leurs  romans  des  hommes  morts  depuis  tant  de 
siecles?  En  cette  question  tient  tout  le  probleme  de  Forigine 
des  chansons  de  geste.  On  y  peut  faire  deux  reponses,  et 
deux  seulement: 

Ou  bien  les  poetes  du  Xlle  siecle  se  sont  interesses  a  ces 
personnages  du  temps  jadis  parce  que  d'autres  poetes  l'avai- 
ent  fait  avant  eux,  ou  d'autres  conteurs,  dont  les  plus  anciens 
avaient  ete  des  contemporains  soit  de  Raoul  de  Cambrai,  soit 
de  Charlemagne,  soit  de  Clovis,  et  les  romans  du  Xlle  siecle 
sont  alors  des  renouvellements  de  ces  antiques  recits  ou 
poemes. 

Ou  bien  les  poetes  du  Xlle  siecle  se  sont  interesses  a  ces 
personnages  parce  qu'ils  avaient  des  raisons  a  eux,  vivantes 
de  leur  temps,  de  s'y  interesser:  en  ce  cas,  les  romans  du 
Xlle  siecle  sont  des  romans  du  Xlle  siecle,  et  il  faut  les 
interpreter  comme  tels:  en  interrogeant,  non  pas  les  livres 

1]  81 

6 


82  BEDIER  [2 

du  Vile  siecle  ou  du  Xe,  mais  la  vie  du  Xlle,  et,  pour  les 
plus  aneiens  de  ces  romans,  la  vie  de  l'epoque  immediatement 
anterieure,  le  Xle  siecle. 

De  la  deux  theories  qui  s'opposent  toutes  les  fois  qu'il 
s'agit  d'expliquer  1'  "  element  historique  "  d'une  chanson  de 
geste.  Xous  etudierons  ici  une  legende  ou  le  conflit  se 
montre  en  toute  son  acuite. 

*    *     * 

En  1842,  Paulin  Paris  avait  cru  remarquer,  entre  les 
chroniques  qui  retracent  les  debuts  de  Charles  Martel  et  des 
romans  qui  retracent  les  f abuleuses  "  enf ances  "  de  Charle- 
magne, certaines  analogies.  Elles  etaient  vagues.1  En  1865, 
Gaston  Paris  les  precisa,2  et  c'est  ici  l'une  de  ses  jolies  decou- 
vertes,  de  celles  qui  semblent  menues  et  qui  ne  le  sont  pas: 

Dans  trois  romans  du  Xlle  ou  du  XHIe  siecle,  Berte  aux 
grands  pieds,  Mainet,  Basin,  on  lit  que  Charles  (Charle- 
magne), fils  de  Pepin  (Pepin  III,  le  Bref),  eut  comme  adver- 
saires  en  sa  jeunesse  deux  personnages  nommes  l'un  Eainfroi 
et  l'autre  Heldri. — Dans  les  annales  et  chroniques  des  annees 
716  a  719,  on  lit  que  Charles  (Charles  Martel),  fils  de  Pepin 
(Pepin  II),  eut  comme  adversaires  en  sa  jeunesse  deux  per- 
sonnages nommes  l'un  Raginfredus  et  l'autre  Chilpericus. 

Raginfredus  donne  regulierement  en  francais  Rainfroi; 
Chilpericus,  non  moins  regulierement,  Helpri.  II  peut 
arriver  a  chacun  3  de  dire  ou  d'ecrire  Childeric  pour  Chilperic, 
Heldri  pour  Helpri. 

1  Ayant  resum6  les  remits  legendaires  selon  lesquels  Charlemagne 
enfant  aurait  6t6  persecute  par  une  maratre,  puis  par  les  fils  de 
celle-ci,  Paulin  Paris  ajoute :  "  II  se  peut  que  dans  ces  traditions 
tout  ne  soit  pas  controuve"  et  imaginaire.  Pgpin  d'H6ristal  avait 
eu  deux  femmes,  l'une  desquelles,  Alpals,  fut  seulement  une  concu-" 
bine;  et  Charles  Martel,  fils  d'Alpais,  eut  longtemps  a  lutter  eontre 
sa  maratre  Plectrude  et  eontre  les  enfants  de  cette  maratre." 
(Histoire  littdraire  de  la  France,  t.  xx,    1842,   p.   703.) 

2  Dans    son   Histoire   podtique   de   Charlemagne,    p.    438-442. 

*  G.  Paris  (I.  I.)  a  note1  deux  exemples  de  cette  mgprise :  dans  les 
Miracula  sanctae  Olodesindis,  ouvrage  compose  a  Gorze  dans  la 
seconde  moitie'  du  Xe  siecle   (Pertz,  88.,  t.  iv,  p.  237,  ligne  23),  on 


3]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  83 

Si  Ton  accorde,  et  qui  voudrait  s'y  refuser?  que  nous 
sommes  ici  en  presence  de  cet  accident,  la  concordance  est 
parfaite,  Identification  s'impose,  et  M.  Pio  Eajna  Fa  constate 
en  ces  termes  pleins  de  justesse :  "  La  critique  a  le  devoir 
d'etre  prudente  et  de  ne  pas  confondre  les  hypotheses  avec 
les  verites  de  fait;  mais  il  faudrait  renoncer  a  tout  espoir 
d'atteindre  jamais  le  vrai  par  d'autres  voies  que  celles  de 
la  simple  deduction  ou  de  l'aperception  directe,  si  cette 
fois  on  ne  concluait  pas  que  Eainfroi  et  Heudri  sont  indubi- 
tablement  le  Eaginfred  et  le  Chilperic  de  l'histoire."  4 

Avec  la  meme  justesse,  M.  Eajna  a  insiste 5  sur  le  fait 
qu'  Heldri,  Heudri  est  un  mot  de  bonne  formation  populaire.  6 

Au  temps  ou  furent  ecrits  nos  trois  romans,  le  nom 
de  Chilperic  etait  devenu  rare :  aussi,  quand  les  clercs 
rencontraient  Chilpericus  dans  un  vieux  livre  latin,  ils  le 
rendaient    en    frangais    comme    ils    pouvaient,    par    quelque 

lit  Childerieus  pour  Chilpericus;  et  "  dans  le  tres  vieux  poeme  sur 
saint  Leger,  Child6rie  II  est  appele-  Chielperig."  J'ai  rencontre"  a 
mon  tour  ce  troisieme  exemple:  la  Vita  Nivardi,  texte  du  IXe  siecle 
(Monumenta  Germ,  historica,  Scriptores  rerum  merovingicarum,  t.  v) 
donne  une  fois   (p.  168,  ligne  3)   Chilpericus  pour  Childerieus. 

4  Pio  Rajna,  Le  origini  dell'  epopea  francese    (1884),  p.   213. 

5  Ibidem,  p.  211. 

6 II  en  est  de  m§me  de  Rainfroi;  mais,  pour  Rainfroi,  le  fait  n'a 
pas  d'int6r§t.  C'€tait  un  nom  encore  tres  porte"  au  Xlle  siecle. 
Un  poete  du  Xlle  siecle,  qui  aurait  lu  dans  un  livre  latin  Ragin- 
fredus,  l'aurait  presque  necessairement  transcrit  Rainfroi.  Pour  em- 
ployer une  forme  savante  telle  que  Raganfroi,  qui  se  lit  dans  les 
Chroniques  de  Saint-Denis  (voyez  Rajna,  ouvr.  cite,  p.  211),  et 
qui  ne  se  lit  guere  que  la,  il  faut  presque  faire  expres.  Aussi 
Philippe  Mousket  traduit-il  regulierement  par  Rainfroi  (v.  1725, 
etc.)  le  Raginfredus  de  sa  source.  On  trouve  dans  YHistoria  regum 
Francorum  monasterii  s.  Dionysii  (Pertz,  88.,  t.  IX,  p.  399) 
Rainfredus  (ligne  15)  aupres  de  Ragenfredus  (1.  11);  Raenfredus 
et  Rainfridus  chez  Ademar  (88.,  t.  iv,  p.  114);  chez  Hugues  de 
Flavigny  (SS.,  t.  vin),  Rainfredus  (p.  339,  1.  41)  ou  Raimfredus 
(p.  342,  1.  10);  Rainfredus  dans  les  Miracula  s.  Veroni  (SS.,  t.  xv, 
p.  750,  1.  50)  et  dans  YHistoria  Fossatensis  (SS.,  t.  ix,  p.  372, 
1.  41);  etc. 


84  BEDIER  [4 

forme  savante  et  gauche,  Chilperic,7  on  Chielperig*  ou 
Ciperis.0  Puisque  nos  romanciers,  eux,  disent  Heldri,  c'est 
done  qu'ils  n'avaient  pas  sous  les  yeux  un  livre  latin  qui 
leur  donna t  Chilpericus;  tout  se  passe  chez  eux  comme  si 
le  nom  n'avait  cesse  depuis  les  temps  merovingiens  d'evoluer 
normalement  et  comme  s'ils  l'avaient  trouve  vivaut  dans 
la  tradition. 

Peut-etre  aurons-nous  a  limiter  plus  loin  la  portee  de 
cette  remarque.  Quoi  qu'il  en  soit,  le  fait  principal  est 
certain,  et  nous  devons  l'accepter  une  fois  pour  toutes,  sans 
restriction:  le  Eainfroi  et  l'Heldri  de  la  legende  sont  bien  le 
Eaginfred  et  le  Chilperic  de  l'histoire. 

Ce  fait,  comment  l'interpreter  ?  Selon  G.  Paris  (c'est  le 
premier  des  deux  principes  d'explication  possibles),  ces  fables 
des  chansons  de  geste  procedent  d'une  tres  lointaine  tradition 
populaire.  Apres  lui,  des  auteurs  nombreux  ont  adopte  cette 
opinion:  le  cas  de  Eaginfred,  adversaire  de  Charles  Martel, 
transforme  par  la  legende  en  Eainfroi,  adversaire  de  Charle- 
magne, leur  semble  offrir  l'une  des  preuves  les  plus  fortes 
de  l'anciennete  des  chansons  de  geste.10  Des  le  VHIe  ou 
le  IXe  siecle,  des  recits  ou  des  chants  auront  celebre  Charles 
Martel  et  ses  luttes  contre  Eaginfred  et  Chilperic;  transmis 
d'age  en  age,  ils  se  seront  un  jour  fondus  avec  d'autres  chants 
ou  recits,  dont  Charlemagne  etait  le  heros;  on  attribua  au 
petit-fils,  plus  glorieux,  les  aventures  de  son  a'ieul;  c'est  un 
"  transf  ert  epique " ;  c'est  meme  l'exemple-type  du  trans- 
fert  epique,  celui  que  les  auteurs  alleguent  le  plus  volontiers. 
Quand  les  poetes  du  Xlle  et  du  XHIe  siecles  rimaient  les 
romans  de  Berte,  de  Mainet,  de  Basin,  ils  renouvelaient,  sans 

T  Chilperic  dans  les  Chroniques  de  Saint-Denis,  chez  Philippe 
Mousket,  etc. 

8  Chielperig  dans  le  Saint-Le'ger. 

•Un  roman  du  XVe  siecle  est  intitule  Ciperis  de  Vignevaux. 

u  Arsene  Darmesteter,  entre  autres,  le  dit  dans  un  article  de  la 
Revue  critique  de  1884,  reproduit  dans  ses  Reliques  scientifiques, 
t.  ii   (1890),  p.  50. 


5]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  85 

en  soupconner  eux-memes  l'anciennete,  des  poemes  plus  vieux 
de  quatre  ou  cinq  cents  ans. 

Cette  theorie  est  seduisante.  Est-elle  vraie?  et  ne  peut-on 
pas,  ici  comme  en  tant  de  cas  analogues,  recourir  a  l'autre 
principe  duplication  ? 

*    *    * 

Avant  d'entrer  dans  cette  recherche,  nous  voudrions  dire 
quelques  mots  touchant  la  methode. 

Pour  traiter  le  cas  d'Heldri  et  Rainfroi,  est-il  indispen- 
sable de  discuter  d'abord  la  theorie  de  G.  Paris  ?  Ne  suffirait- 
il  pas,  voulant  proposer  une  autre  solution  que  la  sienne,  de 
la  proposer  des  maintenant?  Si  elle  est  juste,  elle  s'impo- 
sera  d'elle-meme.  Helas !  il  n'en  va  pas  ainsi.  L'expli- 
cation  que  nous  tenons  en  reserve  ne  saurait,  nous  Favouons 
d'avance,  s'imposer  d'elle-meme;  par  elle-meme,  en  mettant 
les  choses  au  mieux,  elle  n'est  que  vraisemblable. 
L'autre,  celle  de  G.  Paris,  est  vraisemblable  elle  aussi,  a 
tel  point  que  notre  seule  intention  de  la  contredire  doit 
surprendre  par  sa  temerite.  Elles  peuvent  etre  l'une  et 
l'autre  vraisemblables,  et  pourtant,  l'une  disant :  "  Ces  romans 
du  Xlle  siecle  procedent  de  tres  anciens  modeles  perdus," 
l'autre  disant :  "  Ces  romans  du  Xlle  siecle  sont  des  romans 
du  Xlle  siecle,"  elles  sont  contra dictoires,  et  par  suite  l'une 
des  deux,  meme  vraisemblable,  est  erronee.  Mais  comme  elles 
sont  les  deux  seules  hypotheses  possibles,  et  qu'il  n'est  au 
pouvoir  de  personne  d'en  former  une  troisieme,  il  faut  aussi 
que  l'une  des  deux  soit  vraie.  Done,  tout  ce  qu'on  pourra 
opposer  de  valable  a  l'une  fortifiera  l'autre;  a  la  limite,  si 
l'on  parvenait  a  prouver  que  l'une  est  fausse,  l'autre  ne  serait 
plus  seulement  vraisemblable,  mais  necessaire.  C'est  pour- 
quoi  toutes  nos  monographies  de  legendes,  celles  que  nous 
avons  publiees  deja,  celles  que  nous  publierons  bientot,  com- 
portent  deux  discussions,  qui  ne  sont  a  vrai  dire  que  deux 
elements  solidaires  d'une  meme  demonstration:  la  premiere, 
negative,  dirigee  contre  Phypothese  des  origines  anciennes  de 
la  legende  consideree;  la  seconde,  positive,  ou  nous  recourons 


86  BEDIER  [6 

a  l'autre  principe  d'explication,  cherchant  dans  la  vie  du 
Xlle  siecle  des  circonstances  et  des  conditions  propres  a 
expliquer  la  formation  de  la  legende.  Ces  conditions  et  cir- 
constances peuvent  avoir  ete  autres  que  celles  que  nous 
croyons;  elles  peuvent  en  certains  cas  nous  rester  tout  a  fait 
mysterieuses ;  il  n'en  reste  pas  moins,  si  nous  avons  reussi  a 
ecarter  comme  impossible  l'hypothese  contraire,  que  c'est 
dans  le  Xlle  siecle  qu'il  faut  chercher.  La  discussion  nega- 
tive nous  importe  done  bien  plus  que  l'autre.  Dans  le  cas 
d'Heldri  et  de  Eainfroi  comme  dans  les  cas  semblables, 
renoncer  a  discuter  la  theorie  des  origines  anciennes,  ce 
serait  affaiblir  la  theorie  adverse,  celle  des  origines  recentes; 
ce  serait  la  trahir,  puisqu'il  f  audrait  se  resigner  a  la  presenter 
comme  une  hypothese  simplement  plausible,  alors  que  la  dis- 
cussion de  la  theorie  contraire  lui  confererait  peut-etre,  par 
elimination,  la  force  du  necessaire. 

Nous  sommes  done  tenu,  ici  comme  ailleurs,  de  discuter 
l'hypothese  de  l'origine  ancienne  des  chansons  de  geste. 
Comme  elle  consiste  a  affirmer  l'existence  de  tres  anciens 
modeles,  d'ailleurs  perdus,  de  nos  romans,  on  ne  peut  rien 
lui  opposer  dans  l'ordre  des  faits,  mais  seulement  dans 
l'ordre  des  vraisemblances.  On  n'a  d'autre  recours  contre 
elle  que  le  mode  de  demonstration  que  les  traites  de  logique 
appellent  la  reduction  a  l'impossible.  II  consiste  a  admettre 
par  hypothese  la  proposition  contradictoire  a  celle  qu'on 
veut  soi-meme  demontrer  (en  l'espece,  a  admettre  que  ces 
tres  anciens  modeles  de  nos  romans  ont  existe),  puis  a  faire 
voir  que  cette  supposition  conduit  a  des  invraisemblances,  a 
des  contradictions.  La  reduction  a  l'impossible  est  un  mode 
de  demonstration  legitime;  par  malheur,  celui  qui  s'en  sert 
risque  de  prendre,  par  la  meme  qu'il  s'en  sert,  et  malgre  lui, 
a  l'egard  de  ses  devanciers,  des  allures  qui  ressemblent  a 
celles  de  l'arrogance.  C'est  de  leur  point  de  vue  meme  qu'il 
pretend  voir  autre  chose  que  ce  qu'ils  ont  vu.  II  entre  dans 
leur  idee,  il  la  fait  sienne,  mais  c'est  pour  la  mieux  combattre. 
II  l'expose  fidelement,  sans  doute,  et  loyalement,  sous  son 


7]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  87 

jour  le  plus  favorable,  et  cela  est  elementaire,  mais  c'est  pour 
la  pousser  ensuite  jusqu'a  un  point  ou  ses  devanciers  ne  la 
reconnaissent  plus,  pour  en  tirer  des  consequences  propres 
a  la  ruiner.  Par  la,  il  semble  meconnaitre  ce  qu'il  doit  a 
leurs  travaux.  II  a  beau  admirer  ces  travaux  de  toute  sa 
sincerite,  il  n'a  meme  plus  le  moyen  de  le  declarer:  toute 
declaration  de  ce  genre  prendrait  l'aspect  d'une  precaution 
interessee   ou  d'une  raillerie   deguisee. 

Pourtant  ici,  on  n'a  pas  le  choix.  Ce  n'est  point  par  une 
disposition  individuelle  de  son  temperament  intellectuel  que 
tel  ou  tel  oppose  a  la  theorie  des  origines  anciennes  de 
Pepopee  la  demonstration  par  l'impossible.  Ce  procede  s'im- 
pose  et  s'imposera  a  l'avenir  a  quiconque  aura  des  raisons, 
bonnes  ou  mauvaises,  de  la  revoquer  en  doute.  II  faut  ou 
bien  la  discuter  de  cette  facon,  car  il  n'y  en  a  pas  d'autre,  ou 
bien  renoncer  a  la  discuter  jamais,  et  par  la  priver  de  leur 
meilleure  chance  de  prevaloir  des  idees  que  l'on  croit  plus 
vraies. 

Je  recourrai  done,  ici  comme  en  tant  d'autres  cas,  a  la 
demonstration  par  l'impossible,  ou  du  moins  par  l'invraisem- 
blable,  car  c'est  un  bon  outil  de  verite,  et  le  seul  dont  on 
dispose  en  un  tel  sujet.  C'est  de  ce  sujet  que  j'ai  traite  a 
Johns  Hopkins,  en  presence  du  Professeur  Marshall  Elliott; 
dans  plusieurs  autres  Universites  americaines,  peuplees  de 
ses  eleves  et  de  ses  amis.  II  est  naturel  et  juste,  en  souvenir 
de  ces  choses,  que  j'aie  songe  a  en  traiter  ici.  Puisse-je  le 
faire  en  cet  esprit  de  science  et  de  conscience  qui  est  l'esprit 
de  ces  belles  et  cheres  Universites  dont  je  fus  l'hote,  qui 
f ut  l'esprit  du  Professeur  Elliott ! 


II. 


L'hypothese  est  que  l'imagination  populaire,  des  le  temps 
de  Charles  Martel,  s'empara  de  certains  evenements  con- 
temporains  ou  recents,  qu'elle  les  transforma  peu  a  peu 
par  un  travail  qui  dura  des  siecles  et  dont  les  fables  des 


88  BEDIER  [8 

chansons  de  geste  marquent  le  point  d'arrivee.  Quels  sont 
done  ces  evenements?  et  quelles  sont  ces  fables?  Nous  met- 
trons  en  regard,  ici  le  resume  de  ces  evenements  d'apres  les 
ehroniques,  la  le  resume  de  ces  fables  d'apres  les  chansons 
de  geste,  et  nous  rechercherons  quel  est  le  rapport  de  ceci 
a  cela. 

1.  L'histoire.  Voici  d'abord,  telle  qu'on  la  lit  partout,11 
l'histoire,  assez  compliquee,   des  debuts  de  Charles  Martel. 

Dans  les  deux  pays  d'Austrasie  et  de  Neustrie,  Pepin  II  avait 
laisse"  subsister  par  habitude  des  rois  de  la  dynastie  merovingienne, 
rois  insignifiants,  bons  seulement  a  signer  les  diplCmes.  Le  vrai 
souverain,  c'gtait  lui:  en  Neustrie  comme  en  Austrasie,  la  mairie 
du  palais  6tait  devenue  hergditaire  dans  sa  maison,  et  il  entendait 
qu'apres  lui  les  deux  fils  qu'il  avait  de  sa  femme  Plectrude,  Drogon 
et  Grimoald,  gouverneraient  l'un  et  l'autre  pays. 

Par  malheur  ses  deux  fils  moururent  avant  lui,  Drogon  vers  l'an 
708,  Grimoald  en  714.  Quand  Pepin  mourut  a  son  tour,  le  16 
decembre  714,  Plectrude  voulut  exercer  la  regence,  en  Neustrie 
comme  tutrice  de  son  petit-fils  Theodebald,  fils  de  Grimoald,  en 
Austrasie  comme  tutrice  de  ses  petits-fils,  Arnoul  et  Hugue,  fils 
legitimes  de  Drogon. 

Mais  les  Neustriens  se  souleverent.  lis  chasserent  Theodebald, 
choisirent  a  sa  place  comme  maire  du  palais  l'un  des  leurs,  Ragin- 
fred,  et  firent  alliance,  pour  attaquer  l'Austrasie,  avec  Radbod, 
due  des  Frisons  [715]. 

C'est  alors  que  parait  pour  la  premiere  fois  dans  l'histoire  Charles, 
celui  qui  devait  recevoir  le  surnom  de  Martel.  C'gtait  un  fils 
de  P6pin,  ne"  d'une  concubine,  la  "  noble  et  belle  Alpaide."  II  avait 
alors  environ  vingt-sept  ans,  et  "  il  <?tait  beau,  valeureux,  propre 
a  la  guerre."  Quelque  temps  avant  la  mort  de  son  pere,  en  des 
circonstances  qui  ne  nous  sont  pas  connues,  il  avait  €t€  emprisonng, 
sur  le  d6sir  de  Plectrude.     II  s'echappe  de  sa  prison,"  tandis   que 

11  Voyez  les  Chronicarum  quae  dicuntur  Fredegarii  scholastici  con- 
tinuationes  (Scriptores  rerum  merovingicarum,  t.  n,  p.  173-4),  le 
Liber  historiae  Francorum   (ibid.,  p.  325),  etc. 

12  "  His  diebus  Carlus  dux  a  praefata  femina  Plectrude  sub  custodia 
detentus.  Dei  auxilio  liberatus  est"  ( Continuateur  de  Freclegaire, 
I.  I.).  "  Carlus  his  diebus  cum  captus  a  Plectrude  femina  sub  custo- 
dia teneretur,  auxiliante  Domino,  vix  evasit"  (Liber  historiae 
Francorum,  I.  I.). 


9]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  59 

les  ennemis  envahissaient  le  pays,  s'offre  aux  Austrasiens  inquiets 
d'Stre  gouvernes  en  ce  penl  par  une  vieille  femme,  et  soutient  leur 
double  guerre  contre  les  Frisons  et  contre  les  Neustriens. 

II  eprouve  d'abord  des  revers.  II  est  battu  par  les  Frisons  [716]. 
Les  Neustriens  traversent  l'Ardenne  sans  obstacle.  lis  sont  conduits 
par  leur  maire  du  palais  Raginfred  et  (leur  roi,  Dagobert  III,  6tant 
mort  sur  les  entrefaites)  par  un  nouveau  roi  qu'ils  viennent  de 
se  donner:  c'est  un  descendant  incertain  de  Clovis,  qui  avait  vecu 
jusque-la  dans  un  monastere,  sous  le  nom  de  Daniel;  Raginfred 
a  retir6  de  son  cloitre  ce  clerc,  qui  porte  d6sormais  le  nom  de 
Chilperic  II.  Done  Chilperic  et  Raginfred  marchent  contre  Cologne, 
ou  Plectrude  s'etait  enfermee.  lis  la  forcent  a  leur  livrer  une 
partie  de  ses   tresors   et  reprennent  le  chemin   de   leur   pays. 

Mais  Charles  les  atteint  dans  les  Ardennes.  II  leur  inflige  une 
grande  dgfaite  a  Ambleve,  pies  de  Malm€dy,  et,  peu  apres  [21  mars 
717],  les  vainc  une  seconde  fois  a  Vincy,  dans  le  pays  de  Cambrai. 

II  se  retourne  alors  contre  Plectrude,  prend  Cologne.  "  Plectrude 
lui  rendit  les  tresors  de  son  pere  Pepin  et  remit  tout  en  son  pouvoir." 

Desormais  Charles  est  maltre  en  Austrasie.  En  Neustrie,  il 
devra  combattre  encore,  en  718,  Chilperic  et  Raginfred,  allies  cette 
fois  a  Eudon,  due  d'Aquitaine.  II  les  bat  pres  de  Soissons,  les 
poursuit  jusqu'a  Orleans.  Eudon  rentre  a  grand'peine  dans  ses 
gtats,  emmenant  avec  lui  Chilperic  II.  En  719,  Eudon  rendit 
Chilperic  a  Charles,  qui  daigna  alors  le  reconnaftre  pour  roi. 

2.  Les  recits  des  chansons  de  geste.  Voici  maintenant  ce 
que  racontent  les  trois  chansons  de  Berte,  de  Mainet,  de 
Basin.  Nous  les  resumons  chacune  d'apres  la  version  la 
plus  ancienne;  et  nous  retenons  dans  ces  analyses,  si  breves 
soient-elles,  tous  les  traits  utiles  a  la  comparaison. 

a.  Berte  aux  grands  pieds.  P6pin  le  Bref,  press6  par  ses  barons 
de  prendre  femme,  a  demande"  en  mariage  au  roi  Floire  de  Hongrie 
sa  fille  Berte.  Elle  vient  a  Paris;  mais  a  peine  le  roi  l'a-t-il 
gpousee,  une  megere,  sa  nourrice,  abuse  de  son  innocence  et  de 
sa  cr#dulite\  La  vieille  lui  fait  croire  qu'elle  risque  la  mort  la 
nuit  de  ses  noces,  et  Berte  consent  qu'une  autre  prenne  sa  place 
pour  cette  nuit.  C'est  le  theme  de  folk-lore  bien  connu  de  la 
"  Fiancee  substituee."  La  fille  de  la  vieille,  la  "  serve  "  Aliste,  rem- 
place  done  Berte  dans  le  lit  nuptial.  Elle  ressemble  merveilleusement 
a  la  reine;  le  roi  ne  s'apercoit  pas  de  l'6change.  Au  matin,  trompg 
par  la  serve,  il  chasse  la  vraie  Berte,  et  durant  des  annees  la  serve 


90  BEDIER  [10 

regne  sous  le  nom  de  sa  malheureuse  rivale.  Cependant  (c'est  le 
theme  de  "  Genevieve  de  Brabant,"  qui  se  retrouve,  lui  aussi, 
en  tant  de  litteratures  populaires),  la  vraie  reine  vit  inconnue  et 
miserable  dans  la  foret  du  Mans.  Un  jour  pourtant,  l'imposture 
est  decouverte.  La  megere  est  jetee  au  bucher.  Sa  fille  Aliste  est 
traitee  moins  severement,  parce  que  le  roi  a  eu  d'elle  deux  fils, 
nommfe  l'alng  Rainfroi  et  l'autre  Heldri.  On  se  contente  de  la 
releguer  dans  un  monastere,  a  Montmartre,  ou  elle  elevera  ses 
batards.  Mais  qu'  est  devenue  la  vraie  Berte?  Nul  ne  sait.  Les 
jours  passent  et  les  mois,  tant  que  le  roi  la  retrouve  enfin  dans  la 
foret  du  Mans.     Charlemagne  naltra  de  leur  union.13 

b.  Mainet.  "  Les  fils  de  la  serve,  Heldri  et  Rainfroi,  ont  empoi- 
sonn6  Pepin  et  ensuite  Berte.  Pepin,  en  mourant,  a  confie'  a 
Rainfroi  la  garde  du  royaume  et  l'gducation  du  jeune  Charles,  son 
fils.  Les  "  serfs "  elevent  l'enfant  d'une  maniere  degradante,  le 
releguent  aux  cuisines,  et  comme,  malgre'  tout,  il  a  des  partisans 
et  qu'il  r6vele  un  caractere  fier,  ils  songent  a  le  faire  pgrir  a  son 
tour.  Un  fidele  serviteur  de  Charles,  David,  feint  d'entrer  dans 
leurs  projets  et  devient  leur  confident.  II  delibere  avec  d'autres 
amis  de  l'enfant  et  tous  se  decident  a  quitter  la  France,  ou  Charles 
n'est  plus  en  stirete\ 

"  La  fuite  est  precipitee  par  un  incident.  Dans  une  fete,  Charles 
et  ses  amis  se  deguisent  en  fous.  Charles  saisit  a  la  cuisine  une 
forte  broche  dans  laquelle  est  passee  un  paon;  et,  apres  avoir  bien 
bu  et  bien  mang6,  tous  montent  a  la  salle.  La,  Charles  frappe  si 
rudement  Rainfroi  de  sa  broche  qu'il  tombe  pame\  On  veut  le 
saisir;  mais  les  nobles  fous  sont  armfis,  et  parviennent  a  s'esquiver 

13  Ces  traits  sont  communs  pour  la  plupart  a  toutes  les  versions 
et  se  trouvent  dans  la  plus  ancienne,  un  passage  de  la  Chronique 
saintongeaise  (Tote  Vistoire  de  France,  edited  by  F.  W.  Bourdillon, 
1897,  p.  53),  composee  vers  l'an  1225.  Mais  la  Chronique  sainton- 
geaise a  oubli6  de  dire  ce  que  deviennent  la  serve  Aliste  et  ses 
enfants,  quand  la  fraude  est  decouverte.  J'ai  emprunte"  la  donnee 
de  sa  relegation  dans  un  monastere  au  joli  poeme  d'Adenet  le  Roi, 
Li  romans  de  Berte  aus  granz  pi4s  (6d.  Paulin  Paris,  1836,  p.  131; 
cf.  l'6d.  Scheler,  Bruxelles,  1874),  qui  fut  rime  vers  1275. — Les 
versions  de  Berte  aux  grands  pieds  sont  nombreuses,  et  elles  ont  6te 
souvent  etudiges.  Le  livre  le  plus  recent  sur  la  matiere  est  celui 
de  M.  Joachim  Reinhold,  Berte  aus  grans  pie's,  Cracovie,  1909.  Je 
regrette  de  ne  le  connaitre  (il  est  ecrit  en  polonais)  que  par  une 
analyse  que  l'auteur  en  a  publiee  dans  le  Bulletin  de  VAcaddmie 
des  sciences  de  Cracovie,  decembre  1908.  Les  "  positions "  en  sopt 
aussi  sgduisantes  que  neuves. 


11]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  91 

sans  6tre  reconnus.  Cependant  les  serfs,  Rainfroi  et  Heldri,  soup- 
connent  le  veritable  auteur  de  cette  insolence  et  confient  a  David 
leur  resolution  de  faire  disparaitre  Charles  le  plus  tot  possible. 
Celui-ci  reunit  les  amis  de  l'enfant,  et  dans  la  nuit  tous  quittent 
le  palais. 

"  Charles  s'enf uit  en  Espagne  chez  le  roi  sarrasin  Galafre ;  il  se 
met  a  sa  solde  sous  le  nom  de  Mainet,  lui  rend  les  services  les  plus 
signales  et  le  delivre  surtout  d'un  terrible  ennemi,  nomm6  Brai- 
mant.  La  fille  de  Galafre  s'gprend  de  lui,  se  fait  chretienne,  et 
ils  se  promettent  de  s'gpouser,  ce  qui  a  lieu  en  effet  au  denollment. 

"  Apres  maintes  prouesses  en  Espagne,  puis  en  Italie,  Charles 
rentre  en  France,  finit  par  vaincre  les  serfs  Rainfroi  et  Heldri;  il 
les   fait  pendre   et  se   fait  couronner  roi." " 

c.  Basin.  L'auteur  de  ce  poeme18  ignore  les  recits  de  Berte  et 
de  Mainet,  ou  du  moins  n'en  tient  nul  compte.  Mais  il  emploie, 
lui  aussi,  comme  on  va  voir,  Heldri  et  Rainfroi,  en  quality  d'adver- 
saires  de  Charles  et  d'usurpateurs. 

A  la  mort  de  Pepin,  son  fils  Charles  a  trente-deux  ans.  Beaucoup 
de  barons  conspirent  contre  sa  vie;  mais  Dieu  lui  revele  par  un 
ange  le  peril.  II  s'enfuit  alors  chez  un  chevalier  fidele,  Thierry 
d'Ardenne.  La  nuit,  l'ange  apparait  a  Charles  et  lui  ordonne  de 
faire  chercher  le  larron  Basin  et  d'aller  voler  avec  lui:  ainsi  il  pourra 
preserver   ses   jours." "     Suit   l'histoire   pittoresque   et   bien   connue 

15  J'ai  emprunte"  ce  resume"  a  un  article  de  Gaston  Paris  {Romania, 
t.  rv,  p.  308;  cf.  YHistoire  poetique  de  Charlemagne,  p.  230). 
L'auteur  du  Pseudo-Turpin,  vers  1150,  connaissait  d€ja  Mainet. 
Mais  la  redaction  la  plus  ancienne  qui  nous  soit  parvenue  date 
seulement  de  la  seconde  moitie"  du  Xlle  siecle,  et  nous  n'en  avons 
que  des  fragments  (Mainet,  fragments  d'une  chanson  de  geste  du 
Xlle  siecle  publics  par  G.  Paris,  Romania,  t.  iv,  1875,  p.  305). 
Pourtant,  grace  a  de  nombreux  textes  plus  recents,  on  peut  la 
completer  par  endroits.  Le  fond  du  recit  reste  d'ailleurs  partout 
le  m§me  (voyez  la  belle  6tude  de  Gaston  Paris,  aux  pages  230-246 
de  VHistoire  poetique).  Le  resume"  de  G.  Paris,  transcrit  ci-dessus, 
reproduit  assurement  en  substance  les  recits  de  la  chanson  du  Xlle 
siecle. 

"  Nous  avons  perdu  le  texte  francais  de  Basin,  qui  fut  compose" 
sans  doute  au  Xlle  siecle.  Nous  le  connaissons  surtout  par  le 
resume"  qu'en  a  donne"  la  Karlamagnussaga  ( Bibliothdque  de  I'Ecole 
des  Chartes,  1864,  p.  91-2.  Cf.  YHistoire  poitique  de  Charlemagne, 
p.  322). 

"Karlamagnussaga,  I.  I. 


92  BEDIER  [12 

de  Charles  larron  de  nuit.  Qu'il  nous  suffise  de  rappeler  que  l'aven- 
ture  se  deYoule  au  milieu  des  Ardennes,  ou  le  comte  Rainfroi  a  son 
chateau.  Charles,  venu  pour  voler  dans  ce  chateau,  surprend  un 
entretien  de  Rainfroi  et  de  sa  femme.  II  apprend  ainsi  que  des 
conjures  doivent  le  tuer  a  Aix-la-Chapelle,  le  jour  de  son  couronne- 
ment:  Rainfroi  sera  empereur,  son  frere  Heldri  sera  due.  Au 
denoument,  les  traltres  sont  mis  a  mort.  Basin,  qui  a  aid6  Charles 
a  les  decouvrir,  obtient  pour  sa  recompense  la  veuve  de  Rainfroi  et 
son  chateau  de  Tongres. 

Comment  comparer  ces  evenements  et  ces  fables?  II  appa- 
rait  vite,  et  plus  on  les  considere,  plus  il  apparait  qu'un  ecart 
immense  les  separe,  un  ecart  prodigieux.  Ou  retrouver  dans 
les  romans  la  grande  guerre  des  Neustriens  et  des  Austra- 
siens?  Que  sont  devenus  Hugues  et  Arnoul?  Ou  sont 
Eadbod  et  ses  Prisons?  Ou  est  done  Theodebald,  le  jeune 
maire  du  palais?  ou  est  done  son  pere  Grimoald?  Inverse- 
ment,  ou  retrouver,  dans  quels  textes  historiques,  l'aventure 
de  Berte  persecutee?  Aucune  serve  de  Hongrie  a-t-elle 
■jamais  regne  en  France?  Aucun  Pepin  a-t-il  jamais  peri, 
empoisonne  par  ses  batards?  Aucun  Charles  a-t-il  jamais 
grandi  dans  les  cuisines  ?  Certes,  la  legende  peut,  doit  broder 
sur  l'histoire;  et  e'est  par  la  precisement  qu'elle  n'est  pas 
l'histoire;  mais  ici,  il  nous  faut  constater  qu'elle  ne  Pa  pas 
seulement  transformed;  elle  en  a  pris  le  contre-pied.  Par 
un  seul  trait,  toutes  deux  semblent  concorder : 18  le  Charles 
Martel  historique  et  le  Charlemagne  legendaire  ont  chacun 
une  maratre;  mais  dans  l'histoire,  Charles  Martel  lutte  contre 
sa  maratre,  Plectrude;  dans  les  romans,  Charlemagne  est 
debarrasse  de  la  sienne,  Aliste,  avant  meme  que  de  naitre, 
ou  tout  enfant.19  Dans  l'histoire,  Charles  Martel  est  un 
batard  qui  attaque   les   heritiers  legitimes,  et   l'usurpateur, 

18  C'est  la  seule  analogie  que  Paulin  Paris  eut  en  effet  remarquee, 
en  1842.     Voyez  la  premiere  note  de  ce  memoire. 

"Tout  enfant,  selon  quelques  versions  (voyez  Histoire  po4tique 
de  Charlemagne,  p.  228-9).  Partout  la  fausse  Berte  est  chatiee  par 
Pepin  et  disparait  de  la  scene  avant  que  Charles  ait  atteint  l'age 
d'homme. 


13]  LES    "  ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  93 

c'est  lui;  dans  les  romans,  Charlemagne  est  un  fils  legitime 
qui  se  defend  contre  des  batards  usurpateurs,  et  c'est  juste 
le  contraire.  Dans  la  masse  des  fictions  de  tout  genre  que 
l'on  a  contees  de  Charlemagne,  on  rencontre,  il  est  vrai,  quel- 
ques  recits  legendaries  qui  font  de  lui  un  batard.20  Mais 
dans  ces  recits,  on  ne  trouve  jamais  ni  Heldri,  ni  Eainfroi, 
ni  rien  qui  rappelle  les  romans  de  Berte,  de  Mainet,  de  Basin, 
et  pour  cause,  ces  trois  romans  etant  fondes  sur  la  donnee 
1  recisement  inverse ;  il  est  trop  evident  que  la  legende  de  la 
batardise  de  Charlemagne  et  celle  de  sa  lutte  contre  ses  freres 
batards  sont  par  definition  etrangeres  l'une  a  l'autre. 

Et  pourtant,  ne  l'avons-nous  pas  avoue?  Eainfroi  est  bien 
Eaginfred,  Heldri  Chilperic,  Charlemagne  Charles  Martel; 
Pepin  III  le  Bref  est  bien  Pepin  II,  et  par  suite  Plectrude,  sa 
femme,  est  bien  Aliste. 

Si  c'est  l'imagination  populaire  qui  a  opere  ces  metamor- 
phoses, nous  sommes  done  forces  de  constater  et  de  croire 
qu'elle  s'est  appliquee  a  tout  confondre,  a  tout  brouiller.  Par 
son  oeuvre,  durant  des  siecles,  ces  personnages  se  seront  de- 
mentis comme  en  un  vaudeville  effrene,  se  substituant  les  uns 
aux  autres,  s'absorbant  les  uns  les  autres.  La  noble  matrone 
Plectrude,  transformee  en  une  serve  hongroise,  s'est  vu 
imposer  des  fils  que  son  sein  n'avait  point  portes :  l'un  est 
un  prince  merovingien,  l'autre  un  maire  du  palais  de  Neustrie, 
et  ces  fils  neustriens  de  la  vieille  Austrasienne,  que  la  legende 
lui  commande  de  cherir,  se  trouvent  etre  precisement  les 
deux  hommes  qui,  dans  la  realite  de  la  vie,  vinrent  la  tour- 
menter  a  Cologne,  lui  prendre  ses  tresors,  ses  pires  ennemis. 

Xous  sommes  tenus  en  outre  de  constater  et  de  croire  que 
Pimagination  populaire  ne  s'est  travaillee  de  la  sorte  qu'au 
debut,  durant  la  periode  ou  les  textes  poetiques  nous  font 
defaut.     Au  contraire,  au  Xlle  siecle,  quand  les  chansons 

M  Notamment  le  recit  du  Flamand  Jan  Boendale,  qui  donne  une 
servante  pour  mere  a  Charlemagne.  Voyez  YHistoire  po4tique,  p. 
227 ;  cf.  Le  Origini  dell'  epopea  francese,  p.  205.  M.  G.  Huet  publiera 
bientot  une  6tude  sur  la  legende  de  la  batardise  de  Charlemagne. 


94  BEDIER  [14 

de  geste  apparaissent,  elle  est  calmee.  Nous  n'avons  entre 
les  mains  que  trois  romans  d'aventures  tres  simples,  ou 
quelques  themes  du  folk-lore  universel  (theme  de  la  Fiancee 
substitute,  theme  de  l'habile  voleur,  etc.)  se  developpent 
chacun  selon  sa  loi,  de  la  fagon  la  plus  normale  et,  si  Ton 
peut  ainsi  dire,  la  plus  classique;  en  sorte  que  le  plan  de 
Mainet,  par  exemple,  ressemble  au  plan  de  Bovon  de  Han- 
stone,  ou  de  Floovant,  ou  de  tel  autre  "  roman  d'enfances." 
Dans  nos  trois  chansons  de  geste,  le  roi  chevelu,  son  maire 
du  palais  et  leurs  consorts,  si  agites  naguere,  se  tiennent 
desormais  tranquilles;  ils  ne  se  substituent  plus  les  uns  aux 
autres,  ils  ne  s'absorbent  plus  les  uns  les  autres;  ils  s'en 
tiennent  chacun  au  role  que  les  besoms  du  conte  lui  assi- 
gnent;  et  les  versions  auront  beau  se  succeder  au  Xllle,  au 
XlVe,  au  XVe  siecles,  partout  ils  resteront  semblables  a  eux- 
memes,  Heudri  et  Eainfroi  toujours  traitres,  Aliste  toujours 
perfide,  Berte  toujours  innocente  et  persecutee. 

Nous  sommes  en  un  mot  tenus  de  constater  et  de  croire 
que  les  lois  qui  gouvernent  la  legende,  mais  seulement  durant 
la  periode  ou  les  textes  nous  font  defaut,  sont  justement 
les  lois  qui  gouvernent  nos  esprits  quand  la  raison,  dans 
nos  reves  par  exemple,  cesse  de  les  regir. 

Voila  la  doctrine  qu'il  nous  faut  accepter.  G.  Paris  en 
avait-il  prevu  tout  le  detail?  II  n'a  consacre  a  la  question 
d'Heldri  qu'une  page  rapide;  le  probleme  ne  lui  est  apparu, 
ne  pouvait  lui  apparaitre,  en  1865,  que  sous  ses  aspects  les 
plus  generaux.  II  s'est  borne  a  dire,  tres  justement :  "  la 
poesie  a  confondu  Charles  Martel  avec  Charlemagne;"  il  l'a 
prouve,  et  il  a  passe.  C'est  qu'au  temps  de  YHistoire  poetique 
de  Charlemagne,  le  travail  qui  s'imposait  etait  de  noter  des 
concordances  entre  les  textes  historiques  et  les  textes  poetiques. 
Mais  les  critiques  plus  recents  ont  senti  qu'il  fallait  tenir 
compte  aussi  de  leurs  divergences,  et  les  expliquer.  Puisque 
l'on  avait  a  la  fois  sous  les  yeux,  ici  la  biographie  vraie  de 
Chilperic  et  des  autres,  la  leur  biographie  legendaire,  et  puis- 
que Ton  tenait  pour  assure  que  la  poesie  avait  tire  ceci  de  cela, 


15]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  95 

il  convenait  de  suivre  en  son  detail,  depuis  son  point  de  depart 
connu  jusqu'a  son  point  d'arrivee  connu,  la  marche  de 
l'imagination  populaire;  les  concordances  et  les  divergences 
devaient  pareillement  s'expliquer,  par  le  jeu  des  lois  qui 
gouvernent  la  legende.  M.  Pio  Rajna,  le  premier,  apergut 
clairement  cette  consequence,  et  nous  lui  devons  les  premiers 
exemples  et  les  premiers  modeles  de  ces  comparaisons  detail- 
lees  entre  toutes  les  donnees  de  l'histoire  et  toutes  les  donnees 
de  la  poesie.  II  a  done  voulu,  par  un  effort  qui  n'eut  rien 
d'arbitraire,  qui  etait  dans  la  logique  du  systeme,  expliquer 
ici  le  travail  de  la  legende  et  le  justifier.21 

A  notre  sens,  il  n'y  a  pas  reussi,  parce  que  nul  ne  saurait 
y  reussir.  Ses  explications  ne  font,  croyons-nous,  que  pre- 
ciser  les  difficultes  que  nous  venons  de  mettre  en  relief. 
Mais,  puisque  le  lecteur  peut  en  juger  autrement,  il  convient 
de  resumer  ici  le  systeme  de  M.  Rajna.22 

On  retrouve,  dit-il,  dans  l'histoire  de  Charles  Martel  "  tous 
les  personnages  et  toutes  les  aventures  " 23  des  chansons  de 
geste.  En  effet  1°  la  reine  Berte  est  Alpa'ide;  2°  la  serve 
Aliste  est  Plectrude;  3°  Heldri  et  Rainfroi  sont  Grimoald 
et  Theodebald,  fils  et  petit-fils  de  Pepin,  auxquels  se  sont 
substitutes  par  la  suite  Chilperic  II  et  Raginfred.  Voici  com- 
ment et  pourquoi. 

1°  Berte  est  Alpaide.  "  Les  roles  sont  ren verses,  ecrit  M. 
Rajna;  la  concubine  de  l'histoire  est  la  femme  legitime  de  la 
legende.  On  aurait  grand  tort  de  s'en  etonner;  il  faudrait 
n'avoir  nulle  pratique  de  telles  matieres  pour  ne  pas  com- 
prendre  que  la  legende  devait  s'efforcer  d'enlever  du  front 

aVoyez  ses  Origini  dell'  epopea  francese,  p.  199-222,  surtout  les 
pages  203  a  216. 

22  Je  m'appliquerai  a  rendre  sa  pens6e  d'une  fagon  claire  et  fidele; 
ce  r6sum6  sera  fait  d'ailleurs,  presque  tout  entier,  de  citations. 
Mais,  quoi  qu'il  fasse,  a  son  insu,  qui  resume  d^forme;  je  souhaite 
done  que  le  lecteur  se  reporte,  de  ce  sommaire  necessairement  in- 
complet,  au  livre  de  M.  Rajna. 

**  Le  origini  .  .  .  ,  p.  203. 


96  BEDIER  [16 

des  Carol ingiens,  une  fois  qu'ils  eurent  triomphe,  la  tache 
d'une  origine  illegitime."  2i 

2°  Aliste  est  Plectrude.  La  femme  legitime  de  l'histoire 
est  la  concubine  de  la  legende.  "  C'est  que  la  legende  a  une 
maniere  a  elle  de  voir  les  choses,  qui  ne  lui  aurait  pas  permis 
de  traiter  avec  les  memes  egards  deux  femmes  manifestement 
rivales.  Dans  le  parti  contraire  a  celui  qu'elle  embrasse,  il 
ne  saurait  y  avoir  que  des  mechants.  Done,  puisqu'elle  etait 
pour  la  mere  de  Charles,  il  fallait  qu'elle  fut  de  la  fagon  la 
plus  declaree  contre  sa  rivale,  qui  dut  devenir  une  usurpatrice 
perfide  et  une  serve,  ce  que  peut-etre  avait  ete,  dans  la  realite, 
sa  rivale  Alpaide." 25 

3°  Rainfroi  et  Heudri  sont  Grimoald  et  Theodebald,  aux- 
quels  se  sont  substitues  Raginfred  et  Chilperic.  L'histoire 
opposait  a  Charles  Martel  jusqu'a  sept  adversaires :  ses  f reres 
Drogon  et  Grimoald,  ses  neveux  Hugues,  Arnoul  et  Theo- 
debald, et  encore  Chilperic  et  Raginfred.  lis  etaient  trop. 
La  legende,  dit  M.  Rajna,  ne  fit  pas  entrer  en  ligne  de 
compte  Drogon,  mort  trop  tot,  ni  Hugues  et  Arnoul,  qui 
etaient  trop  jeunes.  Eestaient  quatre  adversaires  encore, 
Grimoald,  Theodebald,  Chilperic,  Raginfred.  "  Complica- 
tion trop  grande  pour  la  legende,  qui  a  toujours  le  cceur 
genereux,  mais  l'intelligence  courte.  Une  simplification  de- 
vait  done  se  produire,  reglee,  comme  il  arrive  toujours,  par  la 
loi  du  plus  fort.  Or,  il  ne  peut  etre  douteux  que  les  faibles 
fussent  ici  Grimoald,  qui  eut  le  grand  tort  de  mourir  avant 
Pepin,  et  Theodebald,  un  enfant.  .  .  .  Nulle  comparaison 
n'etait  possible  entre  ces  figures  et  les  deux  restantes:  Chil- 
peric et  Raginfred,  le  roi  et  son  maire  du  palais.  C'est 
contre  eux  que  Charles  Martel  dut  soutenir  une  lutte  qui 
ne  fut  ni  courte,  ni  facile;  c'est  a  eux  qu'il  ravit  le  gouverne- 
ment  de  la  France.  Grimoald  et  Theodebald  se  laisserent 
done,  par  loi  de  nature,  supprimer  et  absorber."  2e 

24  Ibidem,  p.  203.  •*  Ibid.,  p.  204. 

26  Ibid.,  p.  210-211.     M.  Rajna  a  marque  d'autres  relations  encore 


17]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  97 

Telles  sont  les  explications  de  M.  Kajna.  Plusieurs  les 
trouveront  peut-etre  compliquees.  Mais  s'ils  admettent  l'hy- 
pothese  qui  les  a  provoquees,  a  savoir  que  les  chansons  de 
Berte,  de  Mainet  et  de  Basin  sont  d'origine  ancienne  et  popu- 
laire,  ils  sont  bien  tenus  de  croire  que  les  choses  se  sont 
passees  sensiblement  comme  le  dit  M.  Eajna,  et  d'adopter 
toutes  ses  combinaisons ;  ou  d'en  proposer  d'autres  a  la  place, 
mais  qui  seront  necessairement  de  meme  nature,  et,  comment 
qu'on  s'y  prenne,  nul  n'en  saurait  proposer  de  plus  minutieu- 
sement  etudiees,  ni  qui  soient  fondees  sur  une  meilleure 
connaissance  des  textes. 

Si  pourtant  quelques  lecteurs  estiment  que  les  explications 
de  M.  Rajna  n'ont  pas  resolu  toutes  les  difficultes  marquees 
ci-avant,  s'ils  jugent  que  l'hypothese  generale  de  l'anciennete 
des  chansons  de  geste  les  a  conduits,  en  ce  cas  particulier,  a 
des  consequences  peu  vraisemblables,  s'ils  subissent  ces  conse- 
quences plutot  qu'ils  ne  les  acceptent,  le  moment  est  venu  de 
leur  soumettre  Fautre  hypothese. 


entre  l'histoire  et  la  legende.  J'en  releve  deux,  pour  gtre  moins 
incomplet.  P.  215.  "  Le  Charlemagne  legendaire  natt,  selon  tous 
les  textes,  apres  les  fils  de  la  fausse  Berte;  Charles  Martel  6tait 
reellement  plus  jeune,  et  de  plusieurs  ann6es,  que  Drogon  et  Gri- 
moald." — P.  213-4.  Heldri  a  pour  prototype  Chilpgrie,  qui  etait 
roi;  Rainfroi  a  pour  prototype  Raginfred,  qui  4tait  simple  maire  du 
palais.  Cependant,  les  romans.  renversant  1'ordre  officiel  des  pr€- 
stonces,  font  de  Rainfroi  l'ain6,  d'Heldri  le  cadet.  C'est,  dit  M. 
Rajna,  que  le  M6rovingien  n'Stait  qu'un  "  fantoche  royal,"  tandis 
que  le  maire  du  palais  gtait  le  vrai  roi ;  "  de  la  sorte,  la  tradition 
<?pique  rend  la  condition  vraie  des  choses  mieux  que  les  chroniqueurs 
du  temps."  (Si  pourtant  il  avait  pris  fantaisie  aux  auteurs  des 
romans  de  dire  qu'  Heldri  £tait  l'ain£,  la  theorie  n'en  eut-elle  pas 
tir6  pareillement  avantage?  Ne  se  serait-elle  pas  contentee  du  fait 
que  la  tradition  £pique  aurait  rendu  la  condition  vraie  des  choses 
a ussi  bien  que  les  chroniqueurs  du  temps?) 

7 


98  BEDIER  .      [18 


III. 

L'autre  hypothese,  celle  des  origines  recentes  des  chansons 
de  geste,  est  issue  pour  une  part  (il  serait  facile  de  le  montrer 
et  nous  comptons  le  montrer  ailleurs),  et  procede  des  travaux 
memes  de  G.  Paris,  de  M.  Bajna  et  des  savants  de  leur  ecole. 
Elle  s'est  precisee  depuis  une  quinzaine  d'annees,  grace  a 
M.  Phil.-Aug.  Becker  surtout,  grace  a  M.  Camille  Jullian, 
a  M.  Baist,  a  plusieurs  autres  erudits.  Elle  a  pris  aujour- 
d'hui  assez  de  force  pour  que  deux  critiques  recents,  M.  Phil.- 
Aug.  Becker,27  et  M.  Joachim  Eeinhold,28  aient  traite  de 
Berte,  de  Mainet,  de  Basin  comme  de  romans  imagines  de 
toutes  pieces  au  Xlle  siecle,  sans  nulles  racines  dans  le  passe. 

Mais  que  font-ils  de  Eainfroi  et  d'Heldri?  Ce  ne  sont  que 
des  noms  dans  nos  romans,  disent-ils,  en  quoi  ils  nous  sem- 
blent  bien  avoir  raison.  Encore  ne  pouvons-nous,  si  genant 
que  soit  le  fait,  empecher  que  ces  noms  se  trouvent  dans  nos 
romans.     Comment  s'y  trouvent-ils  ? 

*     *     * 

Pour  repondre,  et  si  nous  voulons  soutenir  que  1' "  element 
historique "  de  ces  romans  n'est  pas  un  residu  de  recits 
epiques  ou  de  poemes  du  VHIe  siecle,  il  faut  que  notre 
explication  satisfasse  a  trois  conditions  difficiles.  II  nous 
faut  montrer  que  nos  romanciers  ont  pu  tenir  leurs  renseigne- 
ments  d'hommes  qui  avaient  encore  de  leur  temps,  au  Xlle 
siecle,  des  raisons  de  parler  de  Charles  Martel,  de  Chilperic, 
de  Eaginfred.  II  nous  faut  de  plus  montrer — et  ceci  est  plus 
malaise — que  nos  romanciers  ont  pu  etre  induits  en  erreur 
par  ces  renseignements,  au  point  de  confondre  Charles  Martel 
avec  Charlemagne.  II  nous  faut  enfin  rendre  compte  du  fait 
qu'ils  emploient  la  bonne  forme  populaire  Heldri. 

Le  point  de  depart  de  notre  recherche  a  ete  cette  remarque 

27  Die  nationale  Heldensage,   1907,  p.  64-5. 
25  Berte  aus  grans  pie's,  Cracovie,  1909. 


19]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  99 

que  la  chanson  de  Basin  est  assez  bien  localisee:  Charles 
s'enfuit  d'Aix-la-Chapelle  dans  l'Ardenne,  les  aventures  prin- 
cipales  se  deroulent  soit  dans  la  foret  d'Ardenne,  soit  dans  la 
residence  de  Eainfroi,  a  Tongres.  Or,  c'est  dans  l'Ardenne, 
a  40  kilometres  environ  de  Tongres  et  au  meme  diocese,  que 
Charles  Martel  a  d'abord  combattu  Eaginfred  et  Chilperic: 
a  Ambleve,  sur  la  riviere  du  meme  nom.  Si  l'on  cherche  sur 
la  carte  le  monastere  le  phis  voisin  de  ce  champ  de  bataille, 
on  trouve,  sur  la  meme  riviere,  l'abbaye  benedictine  de  Sta- 
velot,29  fondee  vers  650,  par  saint  Eemacle,  qui  fut  eveque 
de  Tongres.30  Un  homme  qui  va  de  Tongres  a  Stavelot 
traverse  le  champ  de  bataille  d'Ambleve. 

L'abbaye  de  Stavelot,  unie  a  celle  de  Malmedy,31  fut  durant 
des  siecles  puissante  et  frequentee.  On  montre  encore 
aujourd'hui,  dans  l'eglise  paroissiale  de  Stavelot,  la  chasse 
de  saint  Eemacle,  qui  est  un  chef-d'oeuvre  d'orfevrerie,32  et 
le  roman  de  Renaut  de  Montauban  33  nous  rappelle,  entre  tant 
d'autres  textes,  que  les  reliques  de  ce  saint  attiraient  jadis  des 
visiteurs  nombreux.  En  ce  monastere,  qui  fut  un  foyer 
hagiographique,  on  lisait  les  vieilles  chroniques.  Toutes  les 
vieilles  chroniques  racontent  la  bataille  d'Ambleve:-  les 
moines  n'avaient-ils  pas  songe  a  lier  cet  evenement,  qui  s'etait 
passe  chez  eux,  a  l'histoire  legendaire  de  leur  maison? 

Nous  avons  done  cherche  parmi  les  documents  de  l'abbaye 
et  trouve  le  texte  que  voici. 

29  Stavelot  (Belgique),  a  36  km.  au  S.-E.  de  Liege.  Voyez  Arsene 
de  Node,  Etudes  historiques  sur  Vancien  pays  de  Stavelot  et  de 
Malmidy,  Liege,  1848. 

30  Voyez  la  Vita  s.  Remacli,  au  t.  v,  p.  88,  des  Seriptores  rerum 
merovingicarum,  le  Repertoire  d'Ulysse   Chevalier,  etc. 

"Malm6dy  (Prusse),  a  8  km.  de  Stavelot.  On  voit  encore  des 
restes  importants  des  edifices  anciens,  tant  a  Stavelot  qu'a  Malmgdy. 

M  Elle  a  6te"  decrite  par  Martene,  Voyage  litte'raire  .  .  .  ,  t.  II,  p. 
154,  et  reproduite  par  A.  de  la  Node  dans  les  Annates  de  Vacad4mie 
d'arche'ologie  de  Belgique,  Anvers,    1866,  p.   451. 

"Ed.  Michelant,  p.  53;  v.  1979  de  l'6d.  F.  Castets.  Cf.  Oarin  le 
Lor  rain,  eel.  P.  Paris,  t.  I,  p.  170.  . 


100  BEDIER  [20 

O'est  l'histoire  de  1'im  des  successeurs  de  saint  Kemacle, 
le  nioine  Agilolf,  qui  fut  abbe  de  Malmedy  et  de  Stavelot, 
puis  archeveque  de  Cologne.  On  ecrivit  a  Malmedy,  sans 
doute  vers  la  fin  du  Xle  siecle,34  un  recit  edifiant  de  sa  mort, 
la  Passio  Agilolfi.3*  C'est  une  composition  toute  fabuleuse; 
pour  le  marquer,  il  suffit  d'indiquer  quelle  fait  inourir  le 
saint  en  716,  alors  qu'il  ne  devint  en  realite  abbe  de  Stavelot 
que  vers  750.  II  mourut  martyr,  selon  son  hagiographe ;  et 
quels  furent  les  auteurs  de  son  martyre?  Eaginfred  et 
Chilperic. 

Quand  mourut  le  roi  Pepin,  son  fils  Charles  lui  succeda  au 
royaume  des  Francs.  II  etait  beau  et  fort;  il  n'avait  pas  encore 
atteint  Page  d'homme,  et  pourtant  il  etait  dejil  glorieux  par  ses 
victoires.  Le  saint  archeveque  de  Cologne,  Agilolf,  etait  son  plus  cher 
conseiller.  Or,  tandis  que  Charles,  par  droit  de  naissance,  tenait  le 
sceptre  royal,  la  France  s'anima  contre  lui  d'une  haine  violente. 
Elle  eleva  au  trone  Daniel,  ancien  clerc,  sous  le  nom  de  Helpricus. 
Elle  l'envoya  contre  le  pieux  roi,  ainsi  que  l'usurpateur  Raginfridus, 
esperant  que  tous  deux  lui  enleveraient  a  la  fois  la  vie  et  le 
royaume.3* 

Les  deux  tyranni  penetrant  dans  l'Ardenne,  ravagent  cette  con- 
tree,  pillent  Cologne;  ils  depouillent  les  eglises,  et  rentrent  dans 
l'Ardenne.  Ils  choisissent  Ambleve,  sur  la  riviere  de  ce  nom,  pour 
s'y  partager  leur  butin.  Leur  armee  est  composee  de  Francs, 
d'Aquitains,  et  meme  de  paiens  de  diverses  nations. 

MEntre  1089  et  1099;  voir  les  raisons  que  donnent  les  Bollan- 
distes  a  l'appui  de  cette  date.  En  tout  cas,  la  Passio  est  posterieure 
a  la  translation  des  reliques  de  saint  Agilolf  a  Cologne,  laquelle 
fut  faite  par  l'archeveque  Annon  apres   1075. 

38  Publiee  dans  les  Acta  sanctorum  des  Bollandistes,  t.  n  de  juillet, 
p.  721. 

38  "Igitur  apud  Francorum  gentem,  Pipino  rege  vita  exempto,  Caro- 
lus,  filius  ejus,  decorus  ac  robustus,  successit  in  regno.  Qui  licet 
puerili  teneretur  aevo,  gloriosus  tamen  habebatur  in  triumpho.  Hie 
consilio  sapienti  sanctissimi  archipraesulis  utebatur  Agilolfi.  .  .  . 
In  hunc,  regalia  sceptra  jure  tenentem,  Francia  malignis  odiis  ex- 
arsit,  Danielemque  quondam  clericum,  mutato  nomine  Helpricum 
vocans,  in  regno  sublimavit,  quem  cum  tyranno  Raginfrido  contra 
pium  principem  direxit,  et,  ut  eum  simul  vita  et  regno  privarent, 
invidia  stimulante,  suggessit." 


21]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  101 

A  ces  nouvelles,  le  roi  Charles  (clarissimus  rex  Carolus)  va 
d'abord  a  Cologne,  consoler  son  ami  Agilolf.  II  le  charge  d'aller 
en  ambassade  vers  Helpricus  et  Kaginfridus :  il  les  sommera  de  vider 
sa  terre. 

Agilolf  se  met  en  route,  fait  d'abord  visite  il  ses  freres  de  Mal- 
in€dy,3T  qu'il  retrouve  avec  joie,  et  gagne  de  la  le  camp  ennemi. 
A  la  vue  d'un  pretre  de  Dieu,  sans  m6me  lui  laisser  le  temps  de 
faire  son  message,  des  soldats  se  prgcipitent  sur  lui,  le  percent  de 
coups.  C'est  a  Ambleve  qu'il  recoit  ainsi  le  martyre.  Son  ame 
s'echappe,  sous  la  forme  d'une  colombe  blanche  comme  neige. 

Les  moines  de  l'abbaye  recueillent  son  corps  et  le  transportent 
dans  leur  eglise  de  Saint-Laurent.  Sur  sa  tombe  se  produisent  des 
miracles  que   l'hagiographe  raconte.     Mais  le  plus  beau  est  celui-ci. 

Ambleve  est  un  lieu  dans  le  pagus  d'Ardenne,  a  deux  milles  du 
monastere  de  Malmedy.  II  est  entoure"  de  for§ts  6paisses  et  de 
montagnes  propres  a  y  batir  des  chateaux-forts.  C'est  pourquoi 
Daniel  et  Raginftidus,  dont  les  satellites  avaient  livrg  a  la  mort  le 
saint  pr£lat,  y  avaient  6tabli  leur  camp.  lis  mMitaient  de  plonger 
leur  epee  dans  le  cceur  de  Charles;  ils  ignoraient  qu'en  ce  lieu-la 
memo,  ils  subiraient  de  grandes  pertes  de  leurs  troupes.38  Ils  avaient 
comme  allies  Eudon,  due  des  Aquitains,  et  Rabod,  due  des  Frisons. 

Le  roi  Charles  a  appris  la  mort  de  son  ami  Agilolf.  Pour  le 
venger  il  se  hate  d'entrer  en  campagne.  II  s'avance  dans  l'Ardenne, 
cachant  sa  marche,  non  point  au  bruit  des  trompettes,  mais  en 
silence.  II  poste  ses  troupes  en  embuscade  aux  d6fil6s  des  bois  qui 
entourent  Ambleve,  et  dans  les  bourgades  environnantes.  Puis  il  va 
dans  l'eglise  prier  sur  la  tombe  d' Agilolf, — et  le  lecteur  devine  que 
Charles  vengera  le  martyr  aux  lieux  m§mes  oil  il  est  tombe". 

En  un  lieu  nomm6  Rona,  Charles  rencontre  une  vieille  matrone, 
tres  sage,  venue  d' Ambleve,  qui  lui  indique  un  stratageme :  "  Rassem- 
ble,  lui  dit-elle,  toutes  tes  troupes  sur  la  lisiere  de  la  forSt.  Que 
chaquvj  soldat  prenne  une  branche  feuillue,  assez  grande  pour  couvrir 
le  cheval  et  le  cavalier,  et  que,  portant  ces  armes  nouvelles,  ils 
s'avancent  sous  tes  ordres,  au  point  du  jour,  en  silence  et  au  pas, 

37  C'est  au  printemps  (la  date  du  martyre  d' Agilolf  etant  marquee 
au  ler  avril)  : 

Tempus   erat,   gelidus   canis   cum  montibus   humor 
Liquitur,  et  Zephiro  putris  se  glebo  resolvit; 
Frondebant  silvae,  ridebant  floribus  herbae.  .  . 

On    retrouve    ainsi,    parsemes    dans    la    prose    de    l'hagiographe,    un 
certain  nombre  de   vers. 

w "  Ignari  se  passuros  magnum  de  suis  in  eodem  loco  dispendium." 


102  BEDIER  [22 

vers  le  camp  des  ennemis."     On  fait  ainsi:   l'armee  se  concentre  en 
un  lieu  qui  s'appelle  encore  Ad  Catervas.™ 

Reginfridus  et  Hilpericus  voient  au  matin  marcher  contre  eux  la 
foret.     lis   s'6pouvantent :    la   for§t  les  poursuit.     Leur   d6faite. 

Eien  n'indique  que  l'hagiographe  ait  connu  des  chansons 
de  geste  quelconques.  Par  contre,  il  a  exploite  les  chroniques 
latines,  et  le  fait  est  trop  clair  pour  qu'on  s'arrete  a  le  de- 
montrer.40  Notre  auteur  a  lu  des  livres,  mais  il  a  regarde 
aussi,  il  a  ecoute.  II  a  parcouru  la  route,  "  longue  de  deux 
milles,"  41  qui  va  de  son  abbaye  au  champ  de  bataille ;  il  a 
note  les  aspects  du  paysage;  il  a  vu  le  bois,  au  lieu  nomme 
Ad  Catervas,  ou  Charles  avait  masse  ses  troupes.  Peut-etre 
a-t-il  entendu  raconter  sur  place  l'histoire,  attachee  a  tant 
d'autres  champs  de  bataille,  de  la  foret  qui  marche.42  Peut- 
etre,  longtemps  avant  qu'il  n'ait  ecrit,  montrait-on  deja  pres 
d'Ambleve  l'endroit  ou  Agilolf  avait  regu  le  martyre.     Ou 

39 "  Novis  armis  munitae  catervae,  catervatim  non  diviso  cuneo 
coeperunt  incedere,  et  idcirco  nomen  illius  loci  dicitur  Ad  Catervas 
usque  hodie." 

"En  voici  pourtant  deux  indices.  L'auteur  dit  qu'  Eudon  d'Aqui- 
taine  6tait  alors  alli6  de  Chilperic:  c'est  pour  avoir  lu  un  peu  vite 
les  chroniques,  qui  disent  que  cette  alliance  se  forma  un  peu  plus 
tard,  mais  qui  toutes  en  parlent  a  la  m§me  page  ou  elles  racontent 
la  bataille  d'Ambleve. — On  lit  dans  la  Passio  Agilolfi  cette  phrase: 
ignari  se  passuros  magnum  de  suis  in  eodem  loco  dispendium;  la 
m§me  expression,  appliquee  a  la  m§me  bataille  d'Ambleve,  se  re- 
trouve  dans  le  Liter  historiae  (p.  325)  :  in  loco  quidem  Amblava 
maximum  .  .  .  perpessi  sunt  dispendium,  et  en  plusieurs  autres 
recits. 

41  Le  village  d'Ambleve  est  a  pres  de  vingt  kilometres  de  Stavelot; 
mais  sans  doute  localisait-on  alors  la  bataille  plus  pres  de  l'abbaye. 
II  faudrait  pouvoir  identifier  le  lieu  dit  Ad  Catervas.  Le  lieu  appel6 
Rona  par  la  Passio  doit  £tre  Roenne,  a  2  km.  au  N.  de  Stavelot,  sur 
la  rive  droite  de  PAmbleve. 

42  Ce  theme  populaire,  illustre  depuis  Shakespeare,  se  trouve  deja 
dans  le  Liber  historiae,  c.  36,  applique  a  la  bataille  de  Braisne,  pres 
Soissons,  ou  Fr6degonde  defit  les  Austrasiens  (cf.  Kurth,  Histoire 
po6tique  des   Mirovingiens,    1893,   p.   396-402). 


23]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  103 

bien  a-t-il  invente  le  premier  les  principaux  traits  de  son 
recit  ?  On  ne  sait,  et  il  n'importe  guere.  Bien  avant  lui  on 
a  du  conter,  on  doit  conter  encore  aujourd'hui  en  ces  regions 
de  telles  histoires,  celles-la  meme,  ou  d'autres :  de  tout  temps 
il  s'est  trouve  des  clercs  a  Stavelot  pour  lire  les  vieilles  an- 
nales  et  pour  parler  autour  d'eux  de  la  bataille  de  Charles  et 
de  Eainfroi. 

Un  lecteur  de  la  Passio  sancti  Agilolfi,  lecteur  du  Xlle 
siecle  ou  du  XXe,  qu'y  apprend-il  des  evenements  du  temps 
de  Charles  et  de  Eaginfred? 

1°  II  n'y  apprend  rien  de  Plectrude,  de  Grimoald, 
d'  Hugues,  d'Arnoul,  ni  de  Theodebald,  ni  d'Alpaide,  ni  des 
faits  compliques  qui  mirent  aux  prises  Austrasiens  et  Neus- 
triens.  Ces  faits  et  ces  personnages,  l'hagiographe  les  con- 
naissait  pourtant,  puisque  toutes  les  chroniques  en  font  men- 
tion a  la  meme  page,  et  qu'il  avait  lu  une  chronique.  Mais, 
comme  il  ne  s'y  interessait  pas  pour  eux-memes,  comme  seule 
la  gloire  d'Agilolf  et  de  son  abbaye  l'interessaient,  il  a  simpli- 
fied Eemarquons  que  pas  un  des  personnages  ni  des  faits  par 
lui  elimines  ne  se  rencontre  non  plus  dans  nos  trois  chansons 
de  geste;  par  contre,  il  n'y  a  pas  un  trait  historique  de  nOs 
trois  chansons  qui  ne  se  trouve  aussi  dans  la  Passio  sancti 
Agilolfi. 

2°  Le  lecteur  de  la  Passio  y  voit  que  le  vainqueur  d'Am- 
bleve  est  nomme,  d'un  bout  a  Pautre  du  texte,  Carolus  tout 
court.43  II  est  roi  de  France,  ce  que  n'etait  pas  Charles 
Martel.  II  est  dit  fils  de  Pepin;  on  n'indique  pas  de  quel 
Pepin.     A  moins  que  le  lecteur  ne  connaisse  deja  par  quelque 

48  Pourtant,  on  lit  une  fois  Carolus  Martellus  dans  le  titre  du 
chapitre  n  (Miraeula  Sancti  ope  patrata.  Victoria  Caroli  Martelli)  ; 
mais  il  se  peut  que  ce  titre  ait  6t6  ajoute"  par  les  Bollandistes. 
Si  m§me  il  a  6t6  gcrit  par  le  vieil  hagiographe,  notre  remarque 
subsiste,  a  condition  qu'on  l'applique  a  quelqu'un  qui  aura  non 
pas  lu  lui-m§me  le  texte  de  la  Passio,  mais  qui  aura  entendu 
raconter  la  mort  du  saint. 


104  BEDIER  [24 

autre  Source  la  bataille  d'Ambleve,  comment  reconnaitrait-il 
Charles  Martel?  S'il  comprend  que  ce  clarissimus  rex  Caro- 
lus,  filins  Pipini  est  Charlemagne,  n'est-ce  pas  une  erreur 
presque  necessaire?  C'est  precisement  la  meme  erreur  qui 
se  retrouve  dans  nos  trois  chansons  de  geste.  Quand  il  nous 
arrive,  pour  nous  etre  renseignes  dans  un  livre  peu  clair, 
d'attribuer  a  Louis  YII  de  France  tel  acte  de  Louis  VI,  cet 
accident  ne  s'appelle  pas  un  "  transfert  epique,"  mais,  plus 
sftnplement,  une  meprise. 

3°  Le  lecteur  voit  dans  la  Passio  que  deux  personnages 
s'elevent  contre  Charles :  l'un,  Helpricus,  s'affuble  du  titre 
de  roi;  mais  l'autre,  qu'est-il  par  rapport  a  ce  faux-roi?  I^e 
lecteur  ne  saurait  le  deviner;  mais,  voyant  que  les  deux 
"  tyranni "  sont  toujours  mis  sur  un  meme  plan  {Helpricus 
cum  iyranno  Raginfrido),  il  est  oblige  de  comprendre  que 
ce  sont  deux  compagnons,  deux  egaux.  II  en  est  ainsi  dans 
nos  trois  chansons  de  geste;  elles  precisent  seulement,  et  de 
ces  egaux  elles  font  des  freres. 

4°  La  Passio  sancti  Agilolfi  appelle  l'un  de  ces  "  tyranni " 
Helpricus,  et  par  la  perd  toute  portee  la  remarque  que  le 
Heldri  des  chansons  de  geste  est  un  mot  de  bonne  formation 
populaire.  L'hagiographe  a  employe  la  forme  Helpricus, 
soit  qu'il  l'ait  trouvee  dans  sa  source  latine,44  soit  qu'il  Fait 
recue  des  gens  du  pays,  lesquels  devaient  raconter  sur  la 
bataille  d'Ambleve  et  sur  saint  Agilolf  de  plus  anciens  recits 
de  clercs.  En  tout  cas,  ce  n'est  pas  Chilpericus  que  le 
lecteur  trouve  dans  la  Passio,  c'est  Helpricus;  il  le  traduit  en 
f rangais  Helpri :  comment  le  traduirait-il,  sinon  Helpri  ? 
Ainsi  feront  nos  chansons  de  geste. 

44  Je  trouve  Helpericus  en  bien  des  textes  (dans  les  Annales  Melli- 
ceuses,  Pertz,  88.,  t.  IX,  p.  494;  dans  le  Herimanni  Augiensis 
C'hronicum,  88.,  t.  V,  p.  97,  dans  une  Genealogia  regum  Francorum, 
88.,  t.  xiii,  p.  247,  etc.)-  T^es  Oenealogice  comitum  Bulonensium 
(88.,  t.  ix,  p.  300)  donnent  Hilperieus  et  Hildricus.  Je  trouve 
Hilphricus  et  la  variante  Helprichus  dans  les  Annales  Laurissenses 
mtnores   (88.,  t.  I,  p.  114). 


25]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  105 

En  resume,  un  lecteur  de  la  Passio,  an  XXe  siecle  ou  au 
Xlle,  que  peut-il  retenir  de  sa  lecture?  Necessairement 
ceci :  qu'Helpri  et  Kainf roi  furent  deux  traitres  qui  conspire- 
rent  contre  Charles,  roi  de  France,  peu  apres  la  mort  de  son 
pere  Pepin,  pour  le  tuer  et  pour  usurper  -son  trone.  C'est 
tout  1 'element  historique  du  roman  de  Basin:  dans  Basin, 
Heldri  et  Eainfroi  sont  deux  freres  qui  conspirent  contre 
Charles  (Charlemagne),  roi  de  France,  peu  apres  la  mort 
de  son  pere  Pepin,  pour  le  tuer  et  pour  usurper  son  trone. 
Les  traitres  sont  devenus  des  freres,  et  Helpri  Heldri,4""'  la 
est  toute  la  difference. 

Pappelons-nous  que  la  chanson  de  Basin  et  la  legende  de 
saint  Agilolf  sont  localisees  toutes  deux  dans  l'Ardenne,  et 
concluons  que  tout  se  passe  comme  si  l'auteur  de  Basin  avait 
hi  la  Passio  sancti  Agilolfi.  Nous  ne  disons  pas  qu'il  l'ait 
lue ;  nous  disons :  tout  se  passe  comme  si  ...  II  a  pu  f aire 
le  pelerinage  de  saint  Kemacle  a  Stavelot ;  il  a  pu  connaitre 
quelqu'un  qui  l'avait  fait.  Un  sermon  entendu  le  jour  de  la 
fete  du  saint,  une  anecdote  contee  par  un  clerc  de  Malmedy  ont 
pu  lui  transmettre  la  teneur  de  la  Passio.  Admettons  meme 
que  les  Bollandistes  aient  fixe  a  tort  a  la  fin  du  Xle  siecle 
la  date  de  la  Passio,  qu'elle  ait  ete  redigee  plus  tard.  De 
tout  temps  on  a  du  parler  de  Charles,  d'Helpri,  de  Eainfroi 
a  Stavelot,  aupres  de  la  tombe  d' Agilolf,46  aux  environs 
d'Ambleve,  quand  on  montrait  aux  voyageurs  le  champ  de 
bataille  et  le  lieu  consacre  par  le  sang  du  martyr;  on  a  du 
en  parler  sur  cette  route  que  hantaient — nous  le  savons  par 
un  texte  souvent  cite — les  cantores  joculares.47 

45  L'accident  qui  a  fait  dire  Heldri  pour  Helpri  est-il  le  fait  d'un 
sacristain  de  Stavelot,  ou  d'un  guide  d'Ambleve,  ou  d'un  chanteur 
de  geste,  etc.?     On  ne  peut  le  savoir,  et  il  n'importe  pas  de  le  savoir. 

*•  Et  meme  apres  que  ses  reliques  eurent  6te"  transferees  a  Cologne. 

47  Voyez  Leon  Gautier,  Les  e~pop6es  francaises,  t.  n,  p.  123.  C'est 
un  passage  des  Miracula  s.  Remacli  {Acta  sanctorum,  t.  i  de 
septembre,  p.  722,  d'apres  les  Oesta  episcoporum  Leodiensium,  oeuvre 
du  Xle -siecle).  On  y  raconte  comment  un  cantor  jocularis,  tandis 
que  Ton  transfere  de   Stavelot  a  Liege  le  corps  de  saint  Remacle, 


106  BEDIER  [26 

L'auteur  de  Basin  aura  done  le  premier  emprunte  aux 
legendes  de  Stavelot  les  noms  d'Heldri  et  de  Kainfroi  et  la 
donnee  de  leur  complot  centre  Charlemagne.  Quand  plus 
tard  d'autres  poetes,  ceux  de  Mainet  et  de  Berte,  voulurent 
composer  sur  Charlemagne  des  "  poemes  d'enf  ances,"  quand 
ils  ramasserent  a  cet  effet  dans  le  folk-lore  les  themes  de  la 
mere  persecutee,  de  la  fiancee  substitute,  du  jeune  prince  en 
lutte  contre  ses  freres  batards,  etc.,  ils  eurent  besoin  de  deux 
noms  de  traitres:  le  roman  de  Basin  les  leur  fournit. 

Au  diocese  de  Tongres  et  Liege,  et  dans  l'Ardenne,  et  tout 
le  long  de  la  Meuse,  on  recueille  a  pleines  mains  des  "  tradi- 
tions "  sur  les  premiers  Carolingiens.  A  l'abbaye  d'Andenne, 
sur  la  Meuse,  on  montrait  au  XlVe  siecle  la  tombe  de  Berte 
aux  grands  pieds.  On  y  venerait  sainte  Begge  (  f  694), 
mere  de  Pepin  II,  et  e'est  sur  son  autel  que  le  fabuleux 
Maugis  d'Aigremont,  decide  a  finir  ses  jours  dans  un  ermi- 
tage,  vint  deposer  en  ex-voto  son  epee  et  son  ecu.48  Selon 
Adenet  le  Eoi,  le  due  Nayme  est  le  fondateur  de  Namur.49 
A  Herstal,  ou  naquit,  dit-on,  Pepin  II,  on  conserve  sur  lui 
diverses  traditions.  A  Jupille,  pres  de  Liege,  ou  il  mourut, 
on  montre  de  nos  jours  une  fontaine,  dite  "  fontaine  de  la 
Belle  Alpaide."  50 — C'est  quelque  savant  de  village,  dira-t-on, 
qui  l'a  baptisee  ainsi,  par  une  fantaisie  toute  recente. — Sans 
doute;  mais  le  mecanisne  de  ces  legendes,  des  anciennes 
comme  des  recentes,  est  le  meme.  Un  recit  historique  part 
toujours   d'un  livre.     II  ne  se  maintient  dans  la  tradition 

est  reveille"  la  nuit  par  une  vision;  suivi  de  son  sodalis,  il  court 
rejoindre  les  veilleurs  du  corps  saint,  "  ac,  ignarus  quid  caneret, 
fortuitu  coepit  de  sancto  percurrere  plura  canendo.  Ac  nostros 
digestim  referendo  casus  tristes  sua  quodammodo  solabatur  cantilena, 
choris  concinentibus.  Rex  autem  desuper  auscultans  per  fenestram 
.  .  .  intendebat  sollicitus  .  .  ." 

48  Dans  la  version  du  manuscrit  764  de  la  Bibliotheque  nationale 
(voyez  La  Chanson  des  Quatre  fils  Aymon,  6d.  F.  Castets,  1909,  p. 
206). 

48  Berte  aux  grands  pieds,  6d.  Scheler,  v.  233  et  suiv. ;  6d.  P.  Paris, 
p.  14. 

00  Voyez  la  Belgique  monumentale,  1845,  t.  II,  p.  149. 


27]  LES    "ENFANCES"    DE   CHARLEMAGNE  107 

orale  qu'a  l'etat  de  legende  locale,  c'est  a  dire  s'il  se  trouve 
en  tel  lieu  des  homines  qui  aient  interet  ou  plaisir  a  le  repeter. 
Ces  legendes  locales  se  deforment  et  s'oublieraient ;  mais  le 
"  savant "  est  tou jours  la  pour  les  rappeler,  maitre  d'ecole 
ou  cure,  le  clerc  qui  a  lu  dans  ses  livres.  "  Tradition  popu- 
laire  ?  "  ou  "  tradition  savante  ?  **  Cette  distinction  n'a  guere 
de  sens,  appliquee  aux  legendes  locales.  Le  recit  du  clerc 
revient  au  clerc  enrichi  de  traits  de  folk-lore,  retourne  au 
"  peuple  "  charge  de  nouveaux  traits  livresques,  se  renouvelle ; 
les  clers  donnent  et  recoivent,  le  peuple  recoit  et  donne. 

Dans  le  cas  d'Heldri  et  de  Eainfroi,  comme  partout 
ailleurs,  pour  expliquer  l'element  historique  d'une  chanson 
de  geste,  il  n'y  a  qu'a  la  "  localiser." 

Nous  croyons  exacte  notre  explication  de  l'element  histo- 
rique de  Basin,  de  Mainet,  de  Berte  par  les  legendes  de  Sta- 
velot.  Mais  peut-etre,  apres  tout,  les  legendes  de  Stavelot 
n'y  sont-elles  pour  rien.  On  peut  contester  notre  explication ; 
il  nous  suffit  qu'on  ne  puisse  pas  raisonnablement  en  contester 
le  principe.  Pour  rendre  inutile  l'hypothese,  invraisemblable 
en  soi,  que  l'element  historique  de  ces  romans  du  Xlle  siecle 
proviendrait  de  poemes  ou  de  recits  du  Vllle,  il  suffit  qu'au 
Xlle  siecle,  au  temps  des  chansons  de  geste,  on  ait  pu  en  un 
lieu  quelconque,  comme  a  Stavelot,  avoir  des  raisons  actuelles 
de  parler  encore  de  Charles  Martel  et  de  Eainfroi:  et  de  tels 
lieux  ne  manquent  pas.51  Si  ce  n'est  pas  a  Stavelot  que 
s'est  formee,  au  Xlle  siecle,  notre  legende,  c'est  done 
ailleurs,  au  Xlle  siecle;  ailleurs,  c'est  a  dire  dans  un  autre 
Stavelot.  Pour  comprendre  les  romans  du  Xlle  siecle,  il  ne 
suffit  pas  d'interroger  les  livres  du  Vllle;  il  faut  plutot 
regarder  la  vie  du  Xlle  siecle. 

M  On  trouve  des  recits  legendaires  sur  Charles  Martel,  Raginfred, 
etc.,  dans  les  Gesta  abbatum  Fontanellensium  ( Saint- Wandrille, 
texte  du  Vllle  siecle,  88.,  t.  n,  p.  277,  279,  281,  287);—  dans  les 
Monumenta  Epternaeensia  (Echternach,  en  Luxembourg,  texte  du 
Xlle  siecle ;  ici,  Raginfred  epouse  Plectrude !  88.,  t.  xxiii,  p.  59-62 )  ; 
—  dans  les  Aegidii  Aureavallensis  Gesta  episcoporum  Leodiensium 
(texte  du  XHIe  siecle,  copie"  d'ailleurs  ici  de  Sigebert  de  Gembloux, 
88.,  t.  xxv,  p.  47)  ; —  etc. 


AN  UNPUBLISHED  FOURTEENTH  CENTURY  IN- 
VOCATION TO  MARY  MAGDALEN :   IL  EST 
BIEN   TEMPS    QUE  JE  M' A  VISE 


EDITED    BY 

H.  A.  Todd 


The  following  Old  French  poem  occupies  the  last  nine 
folios  of  a  manuscript  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  J.  Pier- 
pont  Morgan  of  New  York.  This  manuscript,  which  once 
formed  part  of  the  Ashburnham-Barrois  Collection  and 
appeared  in  Lord  Ashburnham's  early  catalogue,  printed 
about  1860,  as  No.  170,  was  bought  from  Quaritch  by  Mr. 
John  Edward  Kerr,  Jr.,  of  New  York,  in  1903.  A  cata- 
logue of  Mr.  Kerr's  collections,  previous  to  their  sale  to  Mr. 
Morgan,  was  privately  printed  in  1903,  under  the  title 
"  Catalogue  of  Manuscripts,  Early  Printed  Books  and  General 
Works  on  Mediaeval  Romance  Literature."  In  this  catalogue 
the  manuscript  in  question  is  listed,  on  page  8,  as  No.  7 : 
"  Rommant  dou  Lis.  Cest  la  premiere  preface  dou  rom- 
mant  dou  lis."  x  Folios  81-105,  contain  a  versified  rendering 
of  the  Apocalypse,  which  was  edited  by  the  present  writer  in 
the  Publications  of  the  Modern  Language  Association,  vol. 
xvni  (1903),  pp.  535-577. 

In  the  brief  catalogue  description  of  the  ms.  we  read : 
"Folio  81:  Ci  commence  Lapocalipse.  Folio  114:  Explicit 
ex  parte  Petri  Mathei  Clerici.  ms.  of  the  end  of  the  Four- 
teenth Century,  written  on  114  leaves  of  pure  vellum."  This 
explicit,  however,  of  folio  114,  marks  the  end,  not  of  the 
poem  of  the  Apocalypse,  but  of  an  entirely  different  pro- 

"The  text  of  the  Rommant  dou  Lie,  folios  1-80.  with  introduction, 
etc.,  will  appear  in  due  time  as  a  Columbia  doctor's  dissertation. 

1]  109 


110  TODD  [2 

duction,  beginning,  without  rubric  or  other  indication  of 
title,  at  folio  105, — a  poem  of  481  verses  the  presence  of 
which  in  the  MS.  has,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  never  before  been 
pointed  out. 

In  view  of  the  more  or  less  nondescript,  tho  deeply  re- 
ligious, nature  of  the  poem  and  the  absence  of  any  title  in 
the  unique  manuscript  containing  it,  the  supposition  is  not 
a  violent  one  that  the  author  himself — who  was  possibly  the 
otherwise  unknown  Petrus  Matheus  of  the  explicit— ^-com- 
mitted his  modest  waif  to  the  tender  care  of  posterity  without 
even  tacking  to  it  the  useful  appendage  of  a  name.  It  is 
perhaps  with  an  embarrassment  somewhat  similar  to  his, 
that  I  have  ventured,  for  the  convenience  of  the  future 
bibliographer  rather  than  for  the  enlightenment  of  the 
present  reader,  to  designate  this  not  uninteresting  bit  of 
literary  flotsam  as,  in  some  sense  at  least,  an  Invocation  to 
Saint  Mary  Magdalen. 

In  the  case  of  so  brief  a  text  it  will  be  unnecessary  to 
provide  either  an  analysis  or  a  summary.  Suffice  it  to 
premise  that  the  effusion  partakes  of  the  nature  at  once  of 
an  invocation,  a  narrative,  a  reflection  and  a  rhapsody,  and, 
so  far  as  subject-matter  is  concerned,  keeps  strictly  within 
the  outlines  of  the  Gospel  story  of  the  Magdalen,  suggesting 
not  at  all  the  extraneous  legends  of  the  Saint  as  they  may  be 
found  adequately  set  forth  by  Adolf  Schmidt  in  his  study 
of  Guillaume  le  clerc  de  Normandie,  insbesondere  seine  Mag- 
dalenenlegende   (Romanische  Studien,  iv,  493-543). 

The  linguistic  and  formal  features  of  the  poem  may  like- 
wise, it  appears  to  me,  be  fittingly  dismissed  without  elaborate 
discussion.  The  composition  is  framed,  thruout,  in  8- 
syllabled  8-line  strophes,  riming  ababbaba.  The  rectification 
of  an  occasional  accidental  deviation  from  this  order  serves, 
of  itself,  here  and  there,  to  restore  the  true  reading  of  the 
text.  Few  peculiarities  of  the  rime  are  to  be  noted:  con- 
vaintre,  383,  rimes  with  maistre,  paistre,  naitre;  as  a  coun- 
terpart to  this,  fraiche,  riming  with  estache,  decraiche,  tache, 


3]  AN    INVOCATION    TO    MARY    MAGDALEN  111 

is  spelled  frainche.  The  recognition  of  a  prevalent  tendency 
to  hiatus  leads  the  editor  to  retain  the  reading  of  the  MS. 
(v.  14  and  similarly  in  a  few  cases  elsewhere)  : 

Et    la    beauts    de    innocence, 

where  it  would  otherwise  be  so  natural  to  emend:  de 
Vinnocence. 

As  to  vocabulary,  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  refugere 
(=  refuge),  which  is  not  found  in  the  dictionaries,  occurs 
twice  (225,  395) ;  rainte,  288,  is  a  rare  example  of  re- 
dempta;  oviaux,  118  (=  ovellos  from  ovis;  cf.  Mod.  Fr. 
ouaille  for  oueille  =  ovicula)  is  not  in  Godefroy  (ms.  has 
aviaux,  which  might  have  been  retained) ;  in  partie,  252,  I 
would  see  a  form  induced  by  the  exigencies  of  the  rime,  and 
so  also  in  demeur  for  demeure,  138;  embiaudonner,  which 
occurs  twice  (42,  310),  each  time  with  cuer  as  its  object, 
and  which  I  find  nowhere  recorded,  looks  to  me  like  a  French 
original  of  the  Eng.  embolden.  It  might  well  come  from 
Germ,  bald,  with  a  suffix  influenced  by  ordonner,  which  was 
itself  influenced  by  donner. 

As  to  difficulties  in  the  constitution  or  comprehension  of 
the  text,  I  am  at  sea  in  regard  to  verse  261 : 

D'un  autre   se  puet  pent  farder. 

V,Tould  it  be  possible  to  read  pentfarder(?)  and  to  under- 
stand :  '  He  can  be  weighed  in  the  balance  with  another/  i.  e., 
'  He  is  superior  to  all  others '  ?  Or  could  se  pentfarder 
d'un  autre  refer  to  hanging  as  a  substitute  on  the  cross  ? 

Perhaps  the  most  striking  peculiarity  of  the  text  is  the 
curious  form  Ret,  which  introduces  verses  41  and  169 : 

Et   en   besant    fist    aourer 

Ret  panner  des  crins  de  sa  teste. 

Son  esperit  fit  a   fremir 

Ret  ploure  con  douz  et  benigne. 


112  TODD  [4 

In  each  of  these  cases  I  believe  that  the  conjunction  et 
has  been  reinforced  by  carrying  over  the  final  r  from  the 
end  of  the  preceding  verse;  but  I  have  never  seen  the 
phenomenon  before  and  should  be  glad  if  other  examples 
could  be  adduced,  or  another  explanation  offered. 


II  est  bien  temps  que  je  m'avise, 
Tant  com  je  voy  durer  le  jour, 
Que  je  ne  soie  point  reprise, 
Quant  venrai  devant  mon  seignour 
5     Pour  rendre  conte  de  m'amour, 
En  quel  chose  je  l'ay  assise — 
Ou  monde  ou  ou  creatour, 
Itant  com  (me)   dure  ma  franchise. 

He !  mes  cuers,  ou  est  la  plaisance, 

10     La  grace  et  li  bel  atour 

Que  je  receu  en  ma  nessance, 
Ou  baptoime  de  mon  Sauvour? 
Bien  doubt  que  n'ay  perdu  la  flour 
Et  la  beaute  de  innocence. 

15     Hey !  Jhesus,  par  ta  grant  doucour, 
Donne  moy  leu  de  penitence. 

Hey !  qu'ai  je  fait,  lasse  chaitive, 
Quant  je  en  haut  regarder  n'ose? 

20     J'ay  trouble  la  fontaine  vive, 
Ce  lix,  celle  flour,  celle  rose, 
C'est  la  virge  tres  glorieuse, 
Marie,  en  cui  tout  biens  arrive, 
Dont  descent  la  loy  amourouse 

25     Et  flourist  orisons  votive. 

4  seigneur.  12  sauour.  25  flour. 


5]  AN    INVOCATION    TO    MARY    MAGDALEN  113 

Lasse,  seurhausse  ma  purtey, 
Et  fusse  de  toute  part  same! 
Je  pense  avoir  ma  grant  seurtey 
En  la  virge  de  grace  pleine. 
30     Or  est  qu'aour  la  Magdaleine : 
Doy  metre  mon  corps  en  durtey, 
S'avoir  vuis  fiance  certaine 
De  venir  a  bienahurtey. 

Molt  vous  ama  li  Eoys  celeste, 
35     Dame,  bel  vous  vot  colorer, 

Quant  de  l'estat  si  deshonneste 

Vous  daigna  si  bel  restorer; 

Quant  a  ses  piez  vous  fist  plorer 

Lay  ou  Symons  li  faisoit  feste, 
40     Et  en  besant  fist  aourer 

Eet  panner  des  crins  de  sa  teste. 

Amours  qui  les  cuers  embiaudonne 
Vous  fist  plorer  entre  delices, 
Et  fist  d'avoir  et  de  personne 
45     Faire  a  Dieu  plaisans  sacrefices. 
De  quant  qu'aviez  servi  es  vices, 
Aussint  cum  Feuvangile  sonne, 
Jhesus  devient  dous  et  propices, 
Et  touz  vos  pechiez  vous  pardonne. 

50     Li  pharisees  qui  point  n'use 

Dou  douz  temps  qui  se  moustre  en  place, 

Le  maistre  d'ignorance  accuse, 

Et  la  disciple  d'ardiace. 

Lours  li  amanz  qui  vous  embrace, 


28  ma]    sa. 

30  MS.  has  lines  30-33  in  the  order  32,  33,  30,  31.     aour]   anoye. 

42  Amours]  Meurs. 


114  TODD  [6 

55  Es  cuy  laz  estiez  ja  recluse, 
A  Symon,  veant  en  sa  face, 
Par  raison  vive  vous  excuse. 

Hey,  amours,  qui  tout  desfaut  trueve 

Et  le  bel  mettez  en  apert, 
60     Vostre  amanz  maiz  riens  ne  reprueve 

En  vous,  quar,  amours,  le  dessert 

Tout  li  avez  ensemble  offert; 

Et  cui  a  diz  et  dit  et  evre, 

Vostre  cuers  li  est  tout  ouvert, 
65     Mais  riens  que  fine  amour  n'i  trueve. 

Quant  Jhesus  vient  en  un  chastel, 
Marthe  a  mengier  l'a  recehu, 
Marie  boit  a  cler  ruissel 
De  la  doctrine  qu'a  leii; 
70     Vostre  aise  n'a  Marthe  pleii, 
Contre  vous  giete  son  apel : 
"Jhesus,  que  avez  esleii, 
Entre  .ij.  sentez  le  plus  bel." 

Marthe  en  suit  la  vie  active, 
75     Grant  cuisantium  ha  trepriz, 

Jhesu  regoit  a  son  convive; 

Son  cuer  est  frains,  son  cuer  est  pris. 

Jhesus  dareain  l'a  repris : 

"  Quant  avez  la  contemplative 
80     De  .ij.  estat[s]  avez  le  pris, 

La  flour  et  la  prerogative." 

Jhesus  li  maistres  tient  s'escole, 
Jhesus  declaire  ses  doctrines, 
Jesus  donne  en  ses  paroles 

63  cui]  cur.  77  est]  net — est]  e'. 

78  dareain]   da'me. 


7]  AN    INVOCATION    TO    MARY    MAGDALEN  115 

85     Es  armes  plaisant  medecines. 

Diex,  cum  sunt  aise  ses  beguines ! 
Mais  vostre  engin  plus  aut  s'en  vole, 
Et  tout  s'enlace  es  loiz  divines; 
Don  Marthe  se  plaint  et  querole. 

90     Hey !  qui  porroit  son  cuer  retraire 

De  ce  qu'il  soloit  tant  amer; 

Pour  remirer  tel  exeniplaire 

Ou  il  n'a  mais  riens  que  blamer, 

Bien  se  pourroit  sage  clamer; 
95     Quar  cils  qui  vuet  au  monde  plaire, 

Ne  Ten  demeure  que  l'amer, 

Et  la  doucour  ne  dure  gaire. 

Quant  Marthe  est  plus  angoisseuse 

Pleine  de  labour  et  d'esfroy, 
100     Marie  est  plus  delicieuse, 

En  son  cuer  n'avra  ja  desroy; 

Marthe  ministre  en  bonne  foy, 

Vous  estes  d'amer  li  lesteuse; 

Marthe  vous  reguarde  sus  soy, 
105     Si  en  est  .i.  pou  envieuse. 

Dont  estes  vous  Eachel  la  belle, 
Cui  Jacob  de  fin  cuer  amoit, 
Don  Lye  maine  grant  querele, 
Car  trop  souvent  l'acompaignoit. 
110     Jacob  fait  ce  que  faire  doit, 
De  li  son  cuer  point  ne  rapele, 
Amours  le  mist  en  tel  destroit, 
Quant  premier  vit  la  pastourele. 

Jacob  sert,  Jacob  se  debrise, 
115     Trop  est  apert,  trop  est  igniaux; 

99  Plaine.  115  igneaux. 


116  TODD  [8 

Jacob  ne  doubte  vent  ne  bise, 
On  desert  garde  les  aigniaux, 
Lay  maine  .vij.  anz  ses  oviaux 
Et  si  grant  terme  riens  ne  prise, 
120     Comme  fins  amanz  et  loiaux 

Et  tout  jours  prest  a  tout  servise. 

Amours  a  pris  si  grant  puissance, 
Demostre[e]  en  son  grant  esfort, 
Quant  a  vostre  grant  desplaisance 
125     Vostre  frere  rece(h)ut  la  mort;  «  . 

Jhesus  voit  que  li  ladres  dort, 
Combien  qu'il  ne  soit  en  presence; 
Atant  pour  votre  grant  confort 
Va  relever  vostre  esperance. 

130    Jhesus,  qui  les  faiz  sait  porter 

De  ces  que  il  tient  en  s'acorde, 

Vers  vous  vient  pour  vous  conforter 

Si  con  l'evangile  recorde. 

Marthe  cele  mort  li  recorde 
135     Pour  lui  a  pitie  enhorter 

Qu'en  sa  douce  misericorde 

Vaille  si  grant  duel  supporter. 

Marthe  con  saige  s'en  demeur, 

Vous  va  nuncier  ceste  venue; 
140     Tantost  com  oez  vostre  suer, 

Lay  n'ot  nule  resne  tenue; 

De  joie  si  cuers  se  remue, 

Vers  lui  s'en  vole  vostre  cuer; 

Vers  lui  adreciez  vostre  veue, 
145     De  duel  demore  par  desfuer. 

118  aviaux.  124  desplaisance]    desplicasance. 

128  Atant]  Tant.  130  sait]  suit.  138  demeure. 

141  resne]   reine.     MS.  has  w.  142,  143  in  inverted  order. 


9]  AN   INVOCATION    TO    MARY    MAGDALEN  117 

Vostre  cuer  a  lui  se  presente 
Et  de  lermes  li  fait  presant. 
La  mort  du  ladre  li  guermente, 
Et  mostre  car  s'il  fu[s]t  present 
150     De  la  mort  fu[s]t  du  tout  esent. 
Li  maistre  la  disciple  tente: 
Savoir  vuet  de  li  s'elle  sent 
Ce  que  la  foy  vuet  que  l'on  sente. 

Du  mort  dit  qu'il  relevera, 
155     Pour  vostre  consolation; 

Vous  respondez  que  ce  sera 

A  celle  congregation 

De  la  grant  resurrection. 

Jhesus  dit  que  il  moustrera 
160     Plus  tost  sa  domination, 

Quar  tantost  le  suscitera. 

He !  douceur  tres  aute  et  tres  digne ! 
Que  dirai  je  quant  je  remir 
Si  grant  amour  en  si  grant  signe? 
»      165     Quar  quant  Jhesus  vous  vit  gemir, 
Quant  la  coulour  vous  vit  blemir, 
Si  com  l'Escripture  designe, 
Son  esperit  fit  a  f remir 
Eet  ploure  con  douz  et  benigne. 

170     Au  sepulcre  vient  senz  delay, 

Et  vous  avec  autres  plusours. 

Quant  Jhesus  vit,  criait  "  hay !  hay !  " 

Quant  apercoit  lermes  et  plours, 

Lours  le  poignent  a  cuer  amours, 
175     Et  estre  laide  vien  cay 

161  tans  tost.  ; 

175  Perhaps:  Et  dit  au  ladre,  "Venez  cay!" 


118  TODD  [10 

Revit  li  mors  de  .iiij.  jours, 
Et  tout  vaut  met  [re]  en  esmay. 

Dame !  or  n'est  il  pas  merveille 

Se  vostre  cuers  est  tout  en  feu, 
180     Et  de  toute  riens  se  despoille, 

Se  autre  riens  en  lay  n'a  leu. 

Pour  miex  entendre  en  son  gieu, 

Ensic  com  amours  le  conseille, 

S'en  Jhesus  metez  vostre  veu 
185     De  tel  loy  qu'il  n'est  la  pareille. 

Des  or  mais  vostre  corps  n'a  cure 
Se  por  lui  soffre  tout  meschiez, 
Car  fine  amour  qui  tout  endure 
Vous  a  si  aligiez  vos  griez, 
190     De  la  longue  vous  a  fait  briez, 

Que  nul  temps  mais  riens  ne  vous  dure; 
Jhesu  oignez  devers  le  chiez 
En  signe  de  la  sepulture. 

He!  l'alabastre,  l'oignement, 

195     Qui  ont  son  odour  respandu ! 
Judas  fait  ce  faux  jugement, 
Qu'il  ne  deust  estre  despandu, 
Ainz  vausist  miex  qu'il  fust  vendu, 
(Pour)   faire  as  povres  aligement; 

200     Jhesus  li  a  raison  rendu, 

Jhesus  vos  fait  a  sacrement. 

Assez  tost  aprez  ce  vient  l'eure 
Que  Jhesus  dut  de  nous  partir. 
En  celle  heure  que  tout  ciel  ploure, 

186  Des]  Do  and  defect  in  MS. 

197  despondu. 

204  ciel  ploure]    eul  plome. 


11]  AN    INVOCATION    TO    MARY    MAGDALEN  119 

205     Quant  ce  cuers  dut  de  duel  partir, 
Quant  mourir  veistez  ce  martir, 
Ne  mais  avec  vos  ne  demoure, 
Quant  ses  joies  va  departir, 
A  ces  attendent  lai  dessore. 

210     Qui  lors  veit  vostre  contenir, 

Qui  peust  penser  cele  destrece? 

Quant  veistez  vostre  ami(s)   fenir, 

Quant  veistes  cele  bele  face, 

Ou  luisoit  la  plante  de  grace, 
215     Si  grant  laidure  sostenir, 

Quant  li  veistes  de  haute  tace 

La  tel  humilitey  venir. 

He !  mors  tres  dure  et  tres  amere, 

Con  vos  fait  sont  defremitous, 
220     Pour  quoy  metez  en  tel  misere 

Les  cuers  douz  et  affectuous? 

Seront  il  si  presumptuoux 

Qu'il  n'amoient  la  virge  mere? 

Vos  ruis  sont  si  impetuoux 
225     Qu'envers  vous  nul  n'a  refugere. 

Voz  dit,  voz  loiz,  et  voz  coustumes 
Dont  mortelz  en  leur  liens  enlacent, 
De  vos  escris,  de  vos  volumes, 
Ne  roys  ne  contez  ne  se  facent 
230     Pour  veoir,  pour  oir  qu'il  en  facent; 
Car  si  legieres  sont  vos  plumes 
Que  quant  plus  amant  se  solacent 
Lors  respondez  vos  amartumes. 

205  dot.  210  vostre]    vos. 

215  sostenir]    sesteint. 

219  defremitous]    defemnous[?] 

224  ruis]   ruissiaux. 


120  TODD  [12 

A  l'eure  que  Jhesus  trespasse, 
235     Qu'il  vient  a  point  de  son  termine, 

De  touz  pechiez  ensane  masse, 

Pour  vous  a  Dieu  le  pere  fine; 

Les  mains  vers  la  mere  decline, 

S'escrie  a  une  voiz  casse: 
240     "  Mon  cuer  traperce  vostre  espine, 

Leal  fil,  que  (et)   fera  la  lasse?" 

Et  que  fera  mais  la  dolente 
Qui  voit  son  fil  en  tel  destroit? 
"  Onques  doulour  ne  fut  si  grante 
245     Comme  cele  que  mon  fil  voit; 

Certes  mes  cuers  mourir  en  doit, 
Si  que  trestout  li  corps  le  sante; 
Eaison  est  que  l'arbre  se  choit 
A  cui  on  a  cope  son  ante. 

250     Cil  glaives  tres  outrecuidie 

Et  de  toutes  loiz  repreuve, 

Mon  corps  et  m'arme  as  partis ; 

Lors  as  [tu]  ton  coup  esprouve, 

Car  au  corps  mon  fil  l'as  trouve, 
255     Ou  m'amour  Pavoit  adrecie; 

Car  leax  cuers  et  aprove 

Si  ha  son  propre  corps  laissie. 

He!  Absalon,  mon  fil  tres  biaux, 
Formez  et  fait  pour  regarder, 
260     Maiz  ne  fut  si  bel  jouvenciaux ; 
D'un  autre  se  puet  pent  farder. 
He !  mort,  que  pues   [tu]  tant  tarder  ? 
Tu  n'es  ne  juste  ne  leaux; 

236  ensane]   ensane.  238  Les  mains]  Li  mas. 

242  Et]   se.  245  fil]  vil. 


13]  AN    INVOCATION    TO    MARY    MAGDALEN  121 

Se  moy  de  tes  cops  vues  garder, 
265     Mes  cuers  laisse  ja  tes  ruiseaux. 

Se  vous  qui  passez  par  la  voie 
Pour  Dieu  vuilliez  a  moy  entendre, 
Se  tel  doulour  est  con  la  moie 
Bien  en  poez  jugement  rendre, 
270     Quant  mon  filz  voy  en  la  croiz  pendre, 
Quant  mon  corps  de  soz  li  s'ombroie, 
Quant  [je]  li  voy  le  coste  fendre, 
Dont  m'amour  par[t]  tout  et  ma  joie. 

He !  ma  joie  et  ma  liace, 

275     Et  ma  doucour,  ou  vous  querray? 

Ma  bele  clere  douce  face, 

Et  m'amour,  mais  ne  vous  verray, 

Certes  pour  vostre  amour  morrai; 

Se  la  mort  me  vuet  faire  grace, 

280     Nul  delai  de  li  ne  vourrai, 

Nul  demuer  vuil  qu'ele  me  face. 

i 

Ma  joie,  qu'es  tu  devenue? 
Ma  grant  doulour  et  ma  complainte, 
M'amour  douce,  m'amour  esleue,  J 

285     M'amour  florie,  m'amour  sainte, 
Ma  lumiere  qui  n'ies  estainte, 
Lasse,  se  tu  ne  m'es  rendue, 
Tu  qui  m'as  si  chierement  rainte, 
M'arme  en  mourant  te  salue. 

290     He !  arbre  de  haute  valour, 
Et  qui  tout  pooir  as  dompte, 

265  laisse]  lait. 

271  MS.  inverts  w.  271,  272. 

272  li]    le.  272  coste]   costre.  274.  Se. 
291  dompte]   doubte. 


122  TODD  [14 

En  tes  rains  monstre  sa  chalour 
Qui  amour  ha  seur[e]monte, 
Qui  a  respandu  sa  bonte; 
295     Nul  ne  porte  si  bele  flour, 
La  loy  devant  t'avoit  hante, 
Ma[i]s  tes  fruit  te  met  a  honnour. 

He !  arbrez,  sus  touz  honorez, 

Ki-ches  et  passans  tout  tresors, 
300     Du  sane  mon  fil  escolorez, 

En  toy  pent  son  precieus  corps; 

En  toy  son  arme  rendi  hors; 

Et  son  corps,  e'est  sens  demorez, 

Pour  tant  de  grant  pris  es  doulours, 
305     E[s]t  de  toutes  genz  adorez. 

He !  tres  precieuse  coronne, 
Don  son  chief  est  environne, 
Bien  a  amour  cele  personne 
A  grant  honte  abandonne; 
310  Son  cuer  a  si  embiaudonne 
Et  en  ses  laz  si  sou  prissone, 
Qu'as  ennemis  ha  pardonne, 
Et  en  souffrant  nul  mout  ne  sonne. 

Tout  jours  en  mon  cuer  sera  frai(n)che 

315     La  doucour  de  l'aignel  tres  douz, 
Quant  un  sot  lie  a  l'estache 
Ou   (touz)  destrainchiez  fut  et  derouz, 
Ou  tout  sueffre  sanz  nul  courouz 
Ou  l'en  son  visaige  decraiche, 

320     Et  lait  et  ydeux  devient  touz 

Li  mirours  qui  estoit  sanz  tache. 

293  seurmonte.  307  Don]    Dun. 

309  grant]   prent.  320  devient]  deniont. 


15]  AN    INVOCATION    TO    MARY    MAGDALEN  123 

Ja  ne  cherra  du  cuer  Marie 
Ce  bevraige  si  tres  amer 
Que  donna  en  sa  felonnie 
325     La  vigne  digne  de  blamer; 
La  plante,  cui  souloit  amer, 
Cui  souvent  apeloit  s'amie, 
Quant  li  o'it  sa  foy  clamer, 
Pour  plus  tost  terminer  sa  vie. 

330     Ainsi  la  mere  se  tormente 

Et  la  disciple  d'autre  part, 

Li  une  son  fil  mort  gremente, 

L' autre  son  maistre  qu'ele  pert; 

A  nul  fuer  de  li  ne  se  part, 
335     A  garder  le  corps  met  s'entente, 

Ardie  est  comme  leupart 

Qui  atout  glaive  se  presente. 

Aprez  Joseph  d'Arimathie 

Donna  Jhesu  la  sepulture; 
340     Marie  au  corps  tient  compaignie, 

De  li  bien  garder  ha  la  cure, 

Qu'aucuns  ne  puet  par  aventure 

Au  cors  moustrer  sa  gelousie, 

Fors  tant  que  pour  querir  l'ointure 
345     Du  sepucre  s'est  departie. 

Marie  atout  l'oignement 
Tantost  revient  de  la  cite, 
Le  tomblel  curieusement 
En  remirant  ha  visite; 
350     Le  corps  trueve  resuscite, 

Si  pert  trestout  contenement, 

328  foy]  soy. 

343  Au  cors  moustrer]  A  cors  moustre. 


124  TODD  [16 

Car  ele  croit  en  verite 
Con  Fait  emble  celeement. 

Marie  de  duel  se  detort, 
355     Li  ceil  du  cuer  li  est  trouble; 

Sus  li  est  cheiie  la  sort 

Qui  sa  doulour  li  ha  double; 

De  ces  deux  mechiez  l'a  moble, 

De  la  tel  perde  et  (de)  la  tel  mort, 
360     L'un  mal  a  l'autre  acomble, 

Si  s'en  doulouse  sanz  deport. 

Je  croi  que  nus  ne  porroit  faindre 
Le  grant  mechie  qu'ele  se  tient; 
Tout  duel  dou  sien  vuet  estre  maindre, 
365     Quant  de  son  maistre  li  souvient; 
De  son  corps  ne  set  qu'il  devient, 
Que  cuidoit  qu'il  li  dut  recraindre; 
Fors  est  li  maux  qu'a  cuer  li  tient, 
Si  n'a  confort  que  de  soy  plaindre. 

370     Nule  chose  mais  ne  li  plait, 

De  toute  rien  son  cuer  estrainge; 
De  touz  plaisirs  son  cuer  retrait, 
Et  tout  soulas  en  doulour  chainge; 
Ne  li  plaist  confort  de  nul  ainge, 

375     Leur  veoir  n'est  de  grant  esploit, 
Si  n'a  cure  de  leur  losainge, 
De  leur  paroles,  de  leur  plait. 

Ne  vuet  penser  mais  qu'en  son  maistre, 
A  cui  ses  cuers  ha  tant  muse, 
380     Qui  doucement  la  souloit  paistre, 
La  cui  doctrine  a  tant  use; 
Pour  cui  tout  autre  [a]  refuse 

360  a  coble. 


17J  AN    INVOCATION    TO    MARY    MAGDALEN  125 

Ne  nul  autre  ne  vuet  convaintre, 
Son  cuer  de  touz  s'est  excuse, 
385     N'autre  amour  en  li  ne  vuet  naitre. 

He !   Jhesus,  tres  douz,  tres  pitoux, 
Pour  quoy  de  lui  vous  esloignies? 
Pour  quo)r  de  li  vous  celez  voux, 
Qui  vous  lava  jadiz  le[s]  piez? 
390     A  cui  pardevant  sez  pechiez 
Fustes  jadiz  si  gracieus, 
Et  en  Parbre  qu'estoit  sechiez 
Plantastes  fruit  si  precioux. 

He !  tres  douz,  tres  misericors, 
395     Arbre  de  tres  haut  refugere, 

Jhesus,  ja  estes  vous  recors, 

Quant  li  suscistastes  son  frere. 

Pour  cui  estoit  de  cuer  amere, 

L'arme  rendites  en  son  corps, 
400     Dont  la  feistes  de  joie  clere, 

Et  tout  son  duel  meistes  hors. 

Tres  veritable  Jhesucrist, 
He!  cuers  devout,  mais  que  ferunt? 
Vous  meistes  en  vostre  escript 
405     Que  cil  a  mein  vous  trouverunt 
Qui  a  vous  querre  veillerunt; 
Se  ceste  avez  en  despit, 
Vos  promesses  queles  serunt, 
Quant  de  vous  querre  n'a  respit? 

410     Ne  fut  elle  jadiz  loee, 

Quant  de  vous  fist  electium? 
[Dont  ele  fut  at'tenee 
Par  vostre  confirmatium 

393  fuit. 


126  TODD  [18 

De  seiire  possession 
415     Que  ja  ne  seroit  ostee 
Pour  qouy  dont  visium 
Set  a  vostre  amant  tant  celee] 

Quant  Jhesus  o'it  ce  reclain, 

Quant  se  voit  priz  a  oechaisum, 
420     Le  tier  jour  par  devers  le  main, 

Quant  d'esjo'ir  est  la  saisum, 

Jhesus  saut  hors  de  sa  maisum, 

Et  du  tumbel  se  met  a  plain, 

Marie  le  met  a  raison, 
425     Cuide  qu'il  soit  un  ortolain. 

Or  dit  elle,  "  mon  ami  chier, 
Di  moy,  si  te  vient  a  plaisir, 
Ou  avez  mis  ce  que  [je]  quier? 
Ou  doit  le  corps  Jhesu  gesir? 
430     Acomplissez  mon  grant  desir: 

Ou  quel  voie  est,  ou  quel  sentier? 

Tantost  le  me  verrez  saisir, 

Ne  quier  que  nul  me  vuielle  aidier." 

Dame,  cum  estes  viguereuse, 
435     Qui  voulez  porter  si  grant  faiz; 

Trop  estes  vous  delicieuoe, 

De  ceci  vous  tones  en  paiz: 

Tel  charge  ne  portastes  mais, 

Amour  vous  a  fait  courageuse; 
440     Fors  est  vostre  cuer  et  cortois, 

A  cui  nule  rien  n'est  peneuse. 

Lors  Jhesus,  la  salut  de  Fame, 
La  cui  amour  ne  puet  mentir, 
Qui  devant  vous  apeloit  fame, 

431  sentier]  seurter. 


19]  AN   INVOCATION   TO   MARY   MAGDALEN  127 

445     Quant  il  vous  fist  a  repentir, 

Sa  dougour  vous  fist  a  sentir(e)  : 
"  Marie,"  vous  dit  adonc,  "  dame  " ; 
Vostre  cuer  fist  (tout)  a  retentir, 
A  monter  en  la  haute  game. 

450     En  l'aute  game  estiez  aucie : 

Quant  le   vousistez  embracier, 

De  joie  fustes  si  remplie 

Que   [ne]  peiistes  cler  jugier; 

Lors  vous  dit,  "  Voy,  ne  me  touchier, 
455     Avec  mon  pere  ne  suis  mie; 

A  tous  mes  freres  va  nuncier 

Quar  je  suis  relevez  a  vie." 

Dame,  a  vostre  amant  chiere, 

Marie,  de  cuer  bien  apris, 
460     Vostre  oil  premier  vit  la  lumiere, 

Qui  d'amour  estoit  plus  empris, 

Qui  a  lui  querre  s'estoit  pris; 

En  vehant  estes  la  premiere, 

Aprez  la  mere  avez  le  priz, 
465     Qui   souliez  estre  la   derriere. 

Dame,  pleine  de  sapience, 
Qui  ces  granz  prachours  ensaigniez, 
II  vous  donna  cele  excellence 
Qui  vous  fist  plorer  a  ses  piez, 
470     Qui  vous  relaicha  vos  pechiez, 
Et  vous  donna  [son]  indulgence; 
Pour  la  joie  que  vous  prachiez 
Yous  ont  prachours  en  reverence. 

450  autre.  452  fustes]  fustus. 

456  A  tous  mes]   A  mes  mes. 

467  grant.  468  II]   el. 


128  TODD  [20 

Douce  dame,  cui  tout  prechours 
475     Keguardent  leur  vie  blamant, 

Marie,  a  cui  ont  recours 

Li  cuers  failliz,  li  faux  amant 

A  cuer  plus  dur  que  nul  aimant, 

De  ma  vie  vien  en  secours: 
480     Mon  cuer,  ma  vie,  mon  corps  commant 

A  vos  douces  fines  amours. 

Explicit  ex  parte  Petri  Mathei  Clerici 


475  Reguardant. 

479  ma  vie  vien]  marine  venez. 

480  ma  vie]  marine. 


THE  SONGS    OF  THE  EOMAN  DE  LA  VIOLETTE 


BY 

Douglas  L.  Buffum 


Although  references  to  the  songs  interspersed  by  Gerbert 
de  Montreuil  in  his  Roman  de  la  Viohtte  x  frequently  appear, 
no  such  general  study  of  these  songs  has  been  published,  as, 
for  example,  was  made  by  Gaston  Paris  for  the  songs  of 
the  Roman  de  la  Rose  (Guillaume  de  Dole),2  the  first  roman 
d'aventure  in  which  other  poems — almost  invariably  lyrics — 
are  included. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  Roman  de  la  Violette 
belongs  to  the  well  known  and  widely  circulated  cycle  de  la 
gag  cure;  this  cycle  was  studied  by  Gaston  Paris  and  the 
results  of  his  investigations  were  published  in  the  Romania  3 
by  his  friend  and  successor,  M.  Bedier.  In  this  article 
Paris  has  given  about  forty  versions  of  the  story,  omitting 
such  late  derivatives  as  Weber's  opera,  Euryanthe,  or  Dumas' 
play,  Mademoiselle  de  Belle-Isle.*  The  cycle  is  so  wide- 
spread in  the  European  literatures  that  it  extends  from 
Greece  to  Norway  and  from  England  to  Koumania.  The 
greatest  writers  who  have  made  use  of  the  story  are  Boc- 
caccio, in  his  Decameron,  u,  9,  and  Shakespeare,  in  Cymbeline. 
The  bare  outline  of  the  plot  common  to  the  various  versions 
of  the  cycle  is  familiar :  A  man  pledges  his  faith  in  the 
virtue  of  a  woman  and  wagers  with  an  acquaintance  that 

'Edited  by  Francisque  Michel,  Paris,  1834. 

2  Edited  by    Servois   for   the  8oci6t6  des   anciens    textes   frangais, 
1893.     The  article  of  Paris  on  the  Chansons  covers  pp.  Ixxxix-cxxi. 

3  xxxii,  481-551. 

*  Of.,    besides    Paris'    article,   already   mentioned,    Michel's   edition 
of  the  Violette,  p.  xxxv,  and  Servois'  edition  of  the  Rose,  p.  xvi. 
1]  129 

9 


130  BUFFUM  [2 

the  woman  will  remain  faithful.  The  acquaintance  becomes 
a  rival  and  attempts  to  win  the  wager.  Because  of  cer- 
tain deceitful  appearances  the  woman  seems  to  have  yielded, 
but  finally  her  innocence  is  established.  Paris  finds  that 
the  variants  of  the  story  fall  under  three  heads:  first,  there 
is  good  faith  on  the  part  of  the  seducer,  but  he  is  deceived 
by  substitution  into  believing  that  he  has  really  won  the 
wager;  second,  the  seducer  is  treacherous,  he  is  unable  to 
win  the  wager  and  falsely  accuses  the  woman,  who  herself 
lays  bare  the  falsity  of  the  accusation;  third,  the  seducer  is 
treacherous,  but  his  treachery  is  revealed  by  another  than 
the  woman  herself.  It  is  under  the  third  head  that  the 
Violette  falls. 

The  Violette  was  probably  written  between  1225  and 
1230 ; 5  the  two  chief  sources  for  the  plot  of  the  poem  are 
the  Comte  de  Poitiers  and  the  Roman  de  la  Rose  (Guil- 
laume  de  Dole) ;  in  addition  the  latter  has  suggested  the 
idea  of  a  flower  on  the  body  of  the  girl  and  also  the  insertion 
of  songs  in  the  text. 

In  an  edition  of  the  Violette  which  I „  hope  soon  to  pub- 
lish, I  shall  go  into  a  more  detailed  discussion  of  the  de- 
velopment of  the  story,  but  in  this  article  I  shall  consider 
only  the  songs  introduced  by  the  author  into  his  poem. 

The  Roman  de  la  Rose,  the  oldest  of  the  French  romans 
d'aventure  to  intersperse  songs  in  the  text,  was  written 
according  to  Servois  in  1200,  a  date  accepted  by  Gaston  Paris 
as  practically  exact.6  The  new  style  of  scattering  graceful 
lyrics  through  a  roman  d'aventure  evidently  gained  great 
favor  among  the  refined  classes  and  many  authors  adopted  it. 
The  first  of  these,  and  one  who  was  very  successful  in  his 
use  of  the  songs,  was  Gerbert  de  Montreuil,  author  of  the 
Violette,  and  this  poem  follows  the  Rose  more  closely  in  the 
treatment   of   the  lyrics   than    do   later   imitations   such   as 

8  See  Ro.  xxxn,  539  if . 

•  See  introduction   to  Servois'  edition  of  the  Rose. 


3  J  THE   ROMAN   DE  LA  VIOLETTE  131 

Cleomades,  Meliacin,  Le  Chatelain  de  Couci,  Les  Tournois  de 
Chauvenci,  Le  Lai  d'Aristote,  etc.7  In  these  works,  however, 
only  strophes  of  chansons  courtoises  and  refrains  are  intro- 
duced. 

In  the  Violette  there  are  in  all  44  songs  in  about  6660  8 
lines,  in  the  Rose  there  are  48  songs  given  in  5641  lines. 
In  the  Rose  songs  of  more  than  one  strophe  are  frequent. 
This  never  occurs  in  the  Violette,  which,  in  this  respect, 
foreshadows  the  tendency  of  the  later  imitators  to  favor 
brief  citations.  Even  refrains  of  one  line  are  at  times  found 
in  the  Violette,  whereas  the  Rose  offers  no  example  of  so 
brief  a  refrain.  In  both  romans  the  songs  are  introduced 
irregularly;  for  example,  the  first  ten  songs  of  the  Violette 
occur  within  a  space  of  about  two  hundred  lines,  while  in 
another  part  of  the  poem  9  no  song  appears  for  almost  eight 
hundred  lines.  The  longest  citation  in  the  Violette  consists 
of  twenty- five  lines  from  an  epic  of  the  southern  cycle.10 
This  is  the  only  citation  which  is  not  lyric. 

In  both  romans  three  Provencal  songs  occur.  In  the  Rose 
one  is  given  in  the  original,  while  the  other  two  are  trans- 
lated into  the  langue  d'o'il.  In  the  Violette  two  songs  are 
given  in  Provengal,  in  the  place  of  one  of  which,  however,  one 
manuscript  offers  a  translation  of  another  Provengal  song. 
In  the  Rose  the  names  of  the  authors  of  these  songs  are  fre- 
quently given;  in  the  Violette,  except  in  the  case  of  the 
single  epic  citation,  no  source  is  mentioned.  Perhaps  at  the 
period  in  which  the  Violette  was  composed  the  aristocratic 
audiences,   for  which   these   romans   were   written,   were   so 

7  For  a  list  of  poems  introducing  these  songs,  see  Jeanroy,  Origines 
de  la  poe"sie  lyriqiie  en  France,  2e  edition,  Paris,  1904,  p.  116; 
and  Paris,  Rose,  p.  xc. 

•  Owing  to  the  errors  in  Michel's  edition  the  exact  number  of  lines 
cannot  be  given  until  the  critical  text  is  established. 

•Lines  2348-3123. 

"Aliscans;  see  list  of  songs  below. 


132  BUFFUM  [4 

familiar  with  the  songs  cited  that  it  seemed  unnecessary  to 
name  their  authors. 

An  enumeration  of  the  songs  in  the  Violette  may  be  of 
some  interest,  for  they  enable  us  to  see  what  kind  of  lyric 
verse  appealed  most  strongly  to  the  refined  classes  of  the 
courts  of  Louis  VIII  and  Louis  IX,  and  they  also  afford 
a  glimpse,  from  one  more  angle,  of  the  ideas  and  manners  of 
this  medieval  society. 

In  order  to  show  more  clearly  the  author's  way  of  inter- 
mingling lyrics,  I  give  the  context  of  the  roman  as  I  mention 
the  songs. 

The  impecunious,  but  by  no  means  ignorant,  author  (we 
learn  from  the  close  of  the  poem  that  his  name  is  Gyrbers  de 
Mosteruel;  that  is,  Gerbert  de  Montreuil)  begins,  after  a 
brief  eulogy  of  savoir  over  avoir,  by  promising  us  that  we 
shall  have  a  conte  biel  et  delitable.11  He  goes  on  to  say  that 
he  does  not  intend  to  tell  a  tale  of  King  Arthur  and  the 
Bound  Table,  but  that  nevertheless  his  story  is  biaus  et  gens, 
and  the  music  is  well  adapted  to  the  matter.  He  then  names 
his  poem  the  Roman  de  la  Violette,  a  title  suggested  by  the 
Roman  de  la  Rose,  and  tells  us  that  it  contains  mainte  cour- 

11  All  citations  are  given  as  far  as  possible  from  MS.  fr.  1553 
(formerly  7595)  of  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale.  This  is  the  best 
of  the  four  extant  manuscripts  and  shows  a  Picard  coloring,  thus 
being  nearer  the  original  dialect  of  the  author.  For  the  original 
dialect,  see  Seelheim,  Die  Mundart  des  altfrz.  Veilehenromans,  Leip- 
zig, 1903,  and  Buffum,  he  Roman  de  la  Violette,  A  Study  of  the 
Manuscripts  and  the  Original  Dialect,  Baltimore,  1904.  Of  the  four 
extant  manuscripts  two  are  preserved  in  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale. 
fr.  1553  (formerly  7595)  and  fr.  1374  (formerly  7498);  one  is  in 
the  Imperial  Library  of  St.  Petersburg,  MS.  fr.  F.  r.  XIV,  No.  3; 
and  one  is  in  the  private  library  of  Mr.  J.  Pierpont  Morgan. 
(Professor  P.  Meyer's  statement  in  Ro.  xxxiv,  89-90,  that  these 
latter  manuscripts  are  in  the  Morgan  collection  of  the  New  York 
Public  Library  and  in  the  Hermitage  Library  of  St.  Petersburg 
should  be  corrected.)  All  quotations  are  made  from  photographs  of 
the  manuscripts. 


3J  THE   ROMAN  DE   LA   VIOLETTE  133 

toise  changonnete.  He  dedicates  the  poem  to  the  Countess 
of  Ponthieu,  which  enables  us  to  arrive  at  the  approximate 
date  of  composition.12  The  scene  is  laid  at  the  court  of  a 
certain  young  King  Louis  of  France,  a  king  who  loved 
brave  knights,  fair  ladies  and  good  company  in  general. 
One  Easter  (the  proverbial  connection  of  Spring  with  this 
early  lyric  poetry  of  the  aristocratic  type  should  be  noticed), 
a  sumptuous  court  is  held  at  Pont-de-FArche.  After  dinner 
the  King  summons  all  his  courtiers  to  carol.  My  Lady 
Nicole,  Countess  of  Besancon,  and  sister  of  the  Bishop  of 
Lincoln,  begins  by  singing  this  line : 

Ales  bielement,  que  d'amer  me  duel    ( 105 )  .13 

Then  the  Duchess  of  Burgundy  takes  her  lover  by  the  hand 
and  sings : 

Ales  cointement  et  seri,  se  vous  m'ames  (111).14 
Next  the  sister  of  the  Count  of  Blois  sings : 

Ja  ne  mi  marierai 

Mais  loiaument  l'amerai    (120). 

The  fair-haired,  light-hearted  sister  of  the  Count  de  Saint- 
Pol  sings  en  karolani: 

Se  j'ainc  par  amors,  joie  nen  ai  grant, 
Mai  gre  en  aient  mesdisant   (127). 

12  See  article  by  Gaston  Paris  in  Ro.  xxxn,  538. 

"The  numbering  of  the  lines  corresponds  to  Michel's  edition;  see 
also  note  11. 

14  Michel,  in  his  edition  of  the  Violet te,  omits  the  following  line 
before  this  song:  Sans  felonnie  et  sans  orguel,  which  supplies  the 
the  rime  for  the  song.  In  every  case  (except  the  song  introduced 
at  line  6130,  and  even  here  one  of  the  manuscripts  offers  a  riming 
line)  the  line  immediately  preceding  the  song  rimes  with  the  first 
or  second  line  of  the  song. 


134  BUFFUM  [6 

Then  the  beautiful  Demoiselle  de  Couci  sings  this  chanson 
nouvelle : 

Seulete  vois  a  mon  ami; 
S'ai   grant   paor    (134). 

The  dark-haired  Alienor,  Chatelaine  de  Nior,  sings  a  chan- 
sonnete  : 

Aprendes  a  valoir,  maris, 

Ou  vous  m'avez  perdue   ( 141 ) . 

And  then  a  lady  of  Normandy,  who  was  supposed  to  be  in 
love  with  the  King,  sings: 

Ja  ne   lairai   pour  mon  mari   ne  die 

Que  mes  amis  n'ait  un  resgart  de  moi    (152). 

After  these  songs  the  dancers  take  their  positions  three  by 
three  (two  by  two,  according  to  one  manuscript),  and  the 
King  rises  and  converses  with  them  as  he  passes. 

The  seven  brief  songs  just  cited  are  chansons  a  carole. 
The  name  itself  is  applied  to  one  of  these  songs  a  few  lines 
further  on  in  the  text.15  The  carol  has  been  frequently  de- 
scribed.16 It  was  a  medieval  dance  in  which  the  dancers 
formed  a  circle  or  a  chain,  by  joining  hands,  and  accom- 
panied their  movements  by  such  songs  as  have  just  been 
given,  one  dancer  singing  the  song  itself  and  the  others  join- 
ing in  the  chorus,  which  is  the  refrain.  In  the  Rose  a  vielle 
seems  to  have  been  used,  but  it  is  not  mentioned  in  the 
Violette  (except  in  the  case  of  the  epic  quotation).  It 
will  be  noticed  at  once  that  these  songs  or  refrains,  by 
their  themes  of   love   and   by   their   conventional   contempt 

"Line  201. 

18  Cf .  Servois'  edition  of  the  Rose,  p.  xcvi ;  also  BSdier's  article, 
"  Les  ffites  de  mai,"  in  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  May,  1896, 
p.  155. 


7]  THE    ROMAN    DE    LA    VIOLETTE  135 

for  marriage  and  for  the  husband,  offer  the  character- 
istics of  certain  songs  of  the  poesie  courtoise,  such  for 
example  as  the  maieroles.  Though  probably  originating 
in  the  May  festivals,  these  refrains  have  been  so  colored 
by  the  ideas  of  the  upper  classes  that  their  popular 
origin  can  scarcely  be  seen.17  Now  the  question  of  source 
naturally  arises.  The  first  refrain  (Ales  bielement,  que 
d'amer  me  duel)  was  probably  borrowed  from  some  song, 
though  I  have  been  unable  to  identify  it.  Jeanroy  18  cites 
from  the  Chatelaine  de  Saint  Gilles: 

En  regardant  m'ont  si  vair  oeil  • 

Donez  les  maus  dont  je  me  deuil, 

and  other  refrains  might  be  cited  to  show  the  frequency  of 
the  final  phrase  of  our  refrain.  The  phrases  Ales  bielement 
and  Ales  cointement  (second  carol)  are  particularly  appro- 
priate to  a  song  accompanying  a  dance  and  frequently  occur 
in  various  forms.  Jeanroy 19  cites  from  the  Chatelaine  de 
Saint-Gilles : 

Espringuiez  et  balez  liement 

Vos   qui   am6s   par   amors   leaument. 

The  third  refrain   (Je  ne  mi  marierai,  etc.)  is  given  in  a 

manuscript   of  the   Bibliotheque   Rationale.20  The   song  is 

there  given,  as  stated  by  Michel,21  with  the  following 
addition : 

Ne  vous  mariez  mie,   tenez  vous  ensi 
Amoris. 


"For  BSdier's  modification  of  Gaston  Paris'  theory  that  the  lyric 
poetry  of  the  twelfth  century  originated  in  the  dance  songs  accom- 
panying the  May  festivals,  see  RDM.,  May,  1896,  I.  c. 

u  Origines  de  la  po6sie  lyrique  en  France,  p.  107. 

"L.  c,  p.  395. 

20  Fr.  844    (earlier  7222),  fol.  209,  v°,  col.  2,  line  7. 

"Edition  of  the  Violette,  p.  9. 


136  BUFFUM  [8 

The  fourth  song  (Se  j'ainc  par  amors,  etc.)  has  been  pub- 
lished by  Bartsch 22  who  ascribes  it  to  Mesire  Pieres  de 
Corbie.     It  is  the  refrain  of  the  second  stanza  and  runs : 

se   j'aira    par    amours, 

joie  en  ai   mout  grant, 

mal  gre  en  aient  li  mesdisant. 

In  his  variants,  given  on  page  388,  Bartsch  does  not  mention 
this  version  of  the  Violette.  The  fifth  refrain  (Seulete  vols 
a  mon  ami,  etc.)  slightly  resembles  a  modern  couplet  cited 
by  Jeanroy,23  which  runs : 

Je  n'irai  plus  seulette  a  la  fontaine, 
J'ai  trop  grand  peur  du  berger  Collinet. 

The  Cour  de  Paradis  (line  327)  gives  this  refrain  as: 
Renvoisiement  i   vois  a  mon  ami. 

The  sixth  refrain  (Aprendes  a  valoir,  maris,  etc.)  is  given 
by  Bartsch  2i  as  the  refrain  to  the  first  stanza  of  an  anony- 
mous romance  of  six  stanzas.     As  cited  by  Bartsch,  it  runs: 

aprennez  a  valoir,  amis: 
li   jalous  m'a  perdue. 

The  seventh  refrain,  which  suggests  a  chanson  de  mal  mariee 
(Ja  ne  lairai  pour  mon  mari  ne  die,  etc.),  is  given  anony- 
mously by  Bartsch  2G  as  follows : 

Jai  ne  lairai   por  mon  mari  ne  die: 

li  miens  amins  jeut  a  neut  aveuckes  moi. 

Je   li   dis   bien,   ainz   qu'il   m'eust  plevie, 
c'il  me  batoit  ne  faisoit  vilonie, 


'Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  279.  8i,  c,  p.  200. 

Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  38.  M  Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  21. 


9]  THE    ROMAN  DE  LA  VIOLETTE  137 

il   seroit   cous   et  si    lou   comparoit. 
jai  ne  lairai  por  mon  marit  ne  die: 
li  miens  amins  jeut  a  neut  avecque  moi. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  this  song,  as  is  the  case  with  the 
other  carols  that  have  been  identified,  forms  the  refrain  of 
a  longer  piece.  In  the  present  instance  we  have  the  old 
form  of  the  rondel  or  triolet,  which  was  built  up  around 
these  refrains.  Besides  changing  the  content  of  the  refrain, 
the  author  of  the  Viohtte  has  made  over  the  second  line, 
which  contains  eleven  syllables  in  the  version  given  by 
Bartsch,  into  ten  syllables  to  correspond  with  the  first  line. 
Bartsch  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  lines  occur  in 
Renard  le  Nouvel.26  This  version  follows  that  given  by 
Bartsch. 

The  identification  of  five  of  these  seven  chansons  a  carole 
and  the  resemblances  of  the  others  to  the  refrains  cited  by 
Jeanroy  indicate  that  Gerbert  de  Montreuil  probably  did  not 
compose  any  of  them,  but  cited  them  either  from  memory, 
as  Gaston  Paris  thinks  was  the  case  with  the  author  of  the 
Rose,27  or  from  an  earlier  manuscript.  Gerbert's  references 
show  that  he  was  familiar  with  Old  French  literature,  and 
since  these  lyrics  do  not  seem  to  have  been  collected  into 
manuscripts  until  later,  we  may  conclude  that  the  author  of 
the  Violette  probably  quoted  from  memory,  a  conclusion  that 
would  find  support  in  his  frequent  alterations  of  the  original. 
In  the  case,  however,  of  a  song  cited  in  both  the  Violette  and 
the  Rose,28  the  version  of  the  Violette  is  nearer  the  original 
than  that  of  the  Rose,  which  is  one  of  the  sources  of  the 
Violette.  It  is  difficult  in  this  case  to  believe  that  the 
author  had  no  other  copy  of  the  song  before  him. 

After  the  dancing  just  described,  the  King  speaks  with  a 

2,5  Line  6942. 

"  See  his  article  on  the  Chansons  in  Servois'  edition  of  the  Rose. 
24  See,  below,  the  song  by  Gace  Brule"  ending  with  line  1321  of  the 
Violette. 


138  BUFFUM  [10 

handsome  vassal,  Gerart  de  Nevers,  who  is  to  be  the  hero  of 
the  poem.  At  the  request  of  one  of  the  ladies,  Gerart  sings 
with  vols  serie,  without  mentioning  the  author,  a  stanza  of 
eight  lines,  which  proves  to  be  by  Gace  Brule,  a  typically 
courtois  poet.     The  song  is: 

Quant  biele  dame  et  fine  amors  men  prie, 

Encor    ferai   chanchon   cointe   et   jolie, 

Ne  ja  ne  quier  k'envieus  mot  en  die, 

car   onques    nes   amai, 

ne  ja  nes  amerai; 

et  ki  les  asime,  bien  sai 

K'il  fait  que  fols 

K'envieus    sont   molt    plain    de    felonnie    (197). 

Huet,  in  his  edition  of  Gace  Brule,29  gives  this  as  the  first 
stanza  of  one  of  the  pieces  douteuses.  As  edited  by  Huet 
the  stanza  reads: 

Quant   bone    dame   et  fine  Amor   me   prie, 
Encor  ferai  changon  cointe  et  joie; 
Ne  ja   ne  quier  envios  mot  en  die, 

Car  onques  nes  amai 

Ne  ja  nes  amerai, 

Et   quis   aime   bien   sai 

Qu'il  fet  cruel  folie, 
Qu'envios   sont   de   laide  vilenie. 

As  soon  as  Gerart  has  finished  this  stanza  of  Gace  Brule, 
Love,  who  is  always  on  the  alert,  bids  him  sing  this  chan- 
connete  a  cardie: 

J'ai  amours  fait  a  mon  gre 
Miels  en  valra  ma  vie  (203). 

This  carol,  unlike  the  first  seven  of  the  Violette,  seems  to 
have  been  sung  without  an  accompanying  dance.     Michel 30 

28  P.  123   {Sociite"  des  anciens  textes  francais,  1902,  p.  123);  Huet 
has  noted  some  of  the  variants  of  this  version  of  the  Violette. 
m  Violette,  p.  13. 


11]  THE   ROMAN  DE   LA  VIOLETTE  139 

has  found  a  somewhat  similar  couplet  in  the  Chatelaine  de 
Saint-Gilles: 

J'ai   amoretes  a  mon  gr6, 
S'en  sui  plus  joliete  assez. 

Eaynaud  and  Lavoix  31  have  a  refrain : 

J'ai  une  amourete  a  mon  gr6 
Qui  me  tient  jolive. 

A  little  later  Gerart  again  sings: 

Dont  n'ai-jou  droit  ki   m'envoise, 
Quant  la  plus  biele  amie  ai?   (236). 

This  couplet  is  given  by  Bartsch  32  as  the  refrain  in  the  fifth 
and  last  stanza  of  a  romance  by  Maistre  Willaumes  li  Viniers. 
In  his  variants,33  however,  Bartsch  makes  no  mention  of  this 
song  of  the  Violette. 

In  the  songs  cited  so  far  by  the  Violette  the  influence  of 
court  poetry,  the  poetry  with  the  aristocratic  coloring  which 
came  from  the  South,  is  very  marked.  In  the  next  song  the 
author  of  the  Violette  goes  a  step  further  and  introduces  a 
son  poitevin,  by  which  he  means  a  song  in  a  dialect  of  the 
langue  d'oc  (one  of  the  manuscripts  uses  son  provencal 
instead  of  son  poitevin).  The  song  of  the  langue  d'oc  which 
the  author  inserted  in  this  place  has  given  the  copyists  great 
trouble.  The  poorer  of  the  two  Parisian  manuscripts 84 
attempts  to  reproduce  the  southern  dialect  as  follows: 

En  iqual   tans  que  never   d'ausir 

Bois  et  pras,  vergiers  et  flors  espanausir, 

M  Recueil  de  motets  francais  des  xne  et  xme  sidcles,  Paris,  1881, 
vol.  I,  No.  xxx ;  cf.  also  No.  cxxxi. 
w  Rom.   und  Past.,   p.    83. 
n  Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  353. 
MB.  N.,  fr.  1374. 


140  BUFFUM  [12 

Et  voi  bien  que  j'ois  enance  sans  faillir 
Plus  que  cors  n'en  puet  pensar,  ne  bouce  dir, 

Et  sui  jausie  d'un  riceau 

Qui  plus  me  place  a  ma  partie    (327). 

The  New  York  (Morgan)  manuscript  is  nearest  this  one,  as 
we  see: 

En  ce  doux  temps  que  ie  voy  renverdir 

Bois,   prez,  vergiers  et  fleurs  espenir, 

Et  voy  que  joie  en  aise  sans  faillir 

Par  fine  amours  en  doulx  espoir  duire, 

Plus  que  en  peult  nul  cuer  ne  bouche  dire, 

Et  suis  du  cuer  du  ventre  ravie 

D'un  doulx  raissiau  qui  plaist  a  ma  partie. 

The  better  of  the  two  Parisian  manuscripts  35  has  inserted 
a  French  translation  of  an  entirely  different  poem.  The 
original  proves  to  be  by  Bernard  de  Ventadour.  As  given 
by  the  manuscript  it  runs : 

II  n'est  anuis  ne  faillemens, 
Ne    vilonnie,    che    m'est    vis, 
Fors  d'omme  ki  se  fait  devins 
D'autrui   amour,  ne  connissans, 
Envieus!  que  vous  en  avanche 
De   moi    faire   anui   ne   pesanche? 
Chascuns  se  velt  de  son  mestier  garir: 
Moi  confondes,  et  vous  n'en  voi  joir. 

The  original  version  is  given  by  Eaynouard  36  as  follows : 

Non  es  enuegz  ni  falhimens 
Ni  vilania,  so  m'es  vis, 
Mais  d'ome  quan  se  fai  devis 
D'autrui    amor,    ni    conoissens. 

Enoios!  e  que  us  enansa 

De  m  far  enueg  ni  pesansa! 

*B.  N„  fr.    1553. 

*•  Choix   des   poesies    originates    des    troubadours,    vol.    in,   p.    43 ; 
cf.  also  Mahn,  Gedichte  der  Troubadours,  vol.  I,  p.  80. 


13]  THE  ROMAN   DE   LA  VIOLETTE  141 

Quasqus  si  deu  de  son  mestier  forniir: 
Me  confondetz,  e  vos  non  vei  jauzir. 

The  St.  Petersburg  manuscript  gives  only: 

En  eel   temps  que  la  verdure 
Est  ou  bois  et  ou  vergier, 
Et  ie  oy  ces  oyseaulx  chanter 
Et  de  mon  ami  me  souvient 
Que  ie  prens  a  regreter. 

Gauchat 37  was  unable  to  identify  the  Provengal  version 
found  in  the  manuscripts  of  the  Violette  and  I  am  unable 
to  add  anything  to  his  results,  except  to  point  out  that 
Mahn 38  has  published  a  poem  by  Bernard  de  Ventadour, 
the  first  stanza  of  which  slightly  suggests  the  one  in  question. 
Gaston  Paris  in  commenting  on  the  three  Provengal  songs 
of  the  Rose  (of  which  only  one  is  in  the  original  dialect)  is 
of  the  opinion  that  these  songs  were  little  understood  by  the 
northern  audiences,  and  that  they  probably  represented  a 
sort  of  fad.  The  difficulty  experienced  by  the  later  copyists 
of  the  Violette  in  understanding  these  strophes  would  bear 
him  out  in  this  conjecture. 

The  next  song  is  sung  by  the  heroine,  Oriaut,  to  repulse 
the  would-be  seducer,  Lisiart,  who  has  come  to  her  castle  to 
win  the  wager  made  with  Gerart.  As  given  in  the  Violette, 
the  song  is: 

Amors  mi  font  renvoisier  et  canter 

Et  me  semont  que  plus  jolie  soie, 

Et  me  donne  talent  de  miels  amer, 

C'onkes   ne   fis,   pour  cest   fol   ki   m'en   prie; 

Que  j'ai   ami,  a  nul   fuer  ne  volroie 

De  son  gent  cors  partir  ne   desevrer; 

Ains   l'amerai,   que   j'en   sui   bien   amee. 

"  Les  Po6sies  provencales  conservees  par  les  chansonniers  fran- 
cais;  in  Ro.  xxn,  p.  364. 

*"  Gedichte  der  Troubadours,  vol.  I,  p.  74. 


142  BUFFUM  [14 

Laissie  ine  ester,  ne  m'en  proies  jamais: 
Sachies  de  voir,  c'est  parole  gastee    ( 445 ) . 

This  is  from  a  chanson  de  mal  mariee  by  Moniot  d' Arras; 
the  entire  poem  is  published  by  Jeanroy.39  The  author  of 
the  Violette  has  altered  the  inappropriate  refrain  of  the 
original.     As  written  by  Moniot  d' Arras  it  was : 


Quant  plus  m'i  bat  et  destraint  li  jalous, 
tant  ai  je  miex  en  amor  ma  pensee, 


and  was  adapted  to  the  typical  mal  mariee.  The  author  of 
the  Violette,  however,  substituted  a  refrain  more  appropri- 
ate for  a  woman,  who,  faithful  to  her  lover,  wishes  to  repulse 
the  advances  of  the  seducer.  Michel 40  calls  attention  to  a 
similar  idea  given  in  the  Jeu  de  Robin  et  Marion : 41 

Vous  perd6s  vo  paine,  sire  Aubert; 
Je  n'amerai  autrui  que  Robert. 

The  treacherous  seducer  has  not  been  successful,  but 
through  Oriaut's  duenna  he  learns  of  the  violet  on  the  girl's 
body,  and  with  this  information  he  returns  triumphantly  to 
court  in  order  to  claim  Gerart's  property,  forfeited  to  him 
in  accordance  with  the  wager.  Gerart  is  summoned  to  court, 
and  as  he  comes  with  a  retinue  of  a  hundred  young  noblemen 
riding  two  by  two  and  wearing  chaplets  of  roses,  he  sings, 
and  the  young  men  of  his  suite  reply  in  chorus: 

Ensi   va   ki   bien   aimme, 
Ensi  va   (716), 

or  as  given  by  the  second  Parisian  manuscript: 
Bon  jor  a  la  bele  qui  mon  cuer  a. 

39  Origines  de  la  poisie  lyrique  en  France,  p.  496. 
*•  Violette,  p.  25. 
"Verse  83. 


15]  THE   ROMAN   DE   LA  VIOLETTE  143 

The  fact  that  the  longer  songs  were  sung  by  one  person, 
while  the  refrains  were  sung  in  chorus,  suggests  one  reason 
for  the  preservation  of  the  latter.  These  two  refrains  are 
additional  examples  of  chansons  a  carole.  In  the  first  the 
adaptation  of  the  words  ensi  va  to  the  original  movement  of 
the  dance  should  be  noticed.  Barbazan  and  Meon  42  give  it 
in  the  Cour  de  Paradis,  where  it  runs : 

Tout  ensi  va  qui  d'amors  vit  et  qui  bien  aime. 

Jeanroy 43  also  cites  several  examples  of  this  type  of  carol, 
including  this  refrain  from  the  Violette.  The  variant  is 
found  in  a  song  by  Baude  de  la  Kakerie,  given  by  Bartsch  44 
as  follows: 

Boen  jour   ait   ki   mon  cuer   a. 

Eefrains  of  this  simple  type  were  so  common  45  that  it  can 
scarcely  be  said  that  the  author  directly  copied  from  any 
one;  quite  probably  he  quoted  from  memory. 

Here  again  we  see  that  these  refrains,  originating  as 
dance-songs,  were  later  sung  without  the  dance,  and  that 
they  constantly  appear  in  longer  poems  for  which  they  were 
not  originally  intended. 

Oriaut  has  also  been  summoned  to  court  to  be  present 
when  the  traitor  Lisiart  accuses  her  of  infidelity.  As  she 
enters,  Gerart  sings : 

**  Fabliaux  et  Contes,  nouvelle  edition,  Paris,  1808,  vol.  ill,  p.  137. 

a  L.  c,  pp.  395-396;  the  reference,  however,  should  be  to  p.  38, 
not  to  p.  39  of  the  Violette;  see  also  A.  und  A.,  vol.  xciv,  p.  84,  and 
Barbazan  et  Meon,  Fabliaux  et  Contes,  vol.  in,  p.  375,  Ghat,  de 
Saint   Oilles. 

44  Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  95. 

46  Cf.  for  similar  refrains:  song  by  Perrin  d'Angecourt  (No.  18  of 
G.  Steffens'  edition,  Romanische  Bibliothek,  xviii)  ;  Baudouin  de 
Condi  (Scheler's  edition,  Bruxelles,  1866),  vol.  I,  p.  317;  Conte  du 
cheval  de  fust  (by  Gerart  d'Amiens,  see  ZRP.  x,  464)  ;  Raynaud 
et  Lavoix,  Motets,  I,  67,   160;   n,  101;  etc.,  etc. 


144  BUFFUM  [1G 

Ki   ameroit  tel   dame   a  chi 
II   n'aroit   mie  mescoisi    (933). 

I  have  been  unable  to  find  this  refrain  elsewhere. 

After  Gerart  has  been  wrongly  convinced  of  Oriaut's  guilt, 
he  abandons  her  in  a  wood,  where  she  is  found  by  the  Duke 
of  Metz,  who  at  once  falls  in  love  with  her.  As  the  Duke 
carries  her  away  to  Metz  he  sings: 

Cil  qui   d'amours  me  conselle 

Que  de  li  doie  partir 

Ne   set  pas  qui  me  resvelle 

Ne  ki  sont  mi  grief  souspir. 

Petit   a   sens   et  voisdie 

Cil  qui   me  velt  castoier, 

N'onques  n'ama  en  sa  vie; 

Si  fait  molt  niche  folie 

Qui  s'entremet  del  mestier 

Dont  il  ne  se  set  aidier    (1275). 

This  selection  is  the  first  stanza  of  the  fourth  song  of 
Gace  Brule.40  The  quotation  is  practically  word  for  word, 
and  this  would  suggest  that  the  author  had  access  to  a  manu- 
script containing  Gace  Brule's  songs.  This  poet  was  a 
favorite  with  the  author  of  the  Violette,  for  a  little  further 
on  he  again  cites  a  stanza  of  his,  a  stanza  that  is  also  cited 
in  the  Rose.*1     As  given  by  the  Violette  the  song  is : 

Par  Diu!   je  tienc  a  folie 

D'essaier  ne  d'esprouver 

Ne  sa  femme,  ne  s'amie, 

Tant  com  on  le  velt  amer. 

Si   s'en   doit-on   bien  garder 

D'enquerre  par  jalousie 

Chou   c'on   n'i  volroit  trouver    (1321). 

This  song  is  given  by  Huet  (p.  92)  as  the  second  stanza  of  one 

"Huet's  edition;   the  quotation  is  from  the  fourth,  not  from  the 
fifth,  stanza  of  Gace  as  stated  by  Huet  on  p.  cvi,  note  3. 
"Line   3C1G. 


17]  THE  ROMAN  DE  LA  VIOLETTE  145 

of  the  pieces  douteuses.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  ver- 
sion of  the  Violette  follows  the  original  of  Gace  more  closely 
than  it  follows  the  version  given  in  the  Rose,  from  which  we 
conclude  that  the  author  did  not  copy  the  Rose  servilely, 
but  had  first  hand  acquaintance  with  Gace's  works. 

Gerart,  after  he  has  abandoned  Oriaut,  earns  a  livelihood 
by  traveling  from  castle  to  castle  as  a  minstrel.  One  day  he 
reaches  his  own  town  of  Nevers  and  finds  Lisiart  in  his 
castle.  Here,  when  the  two  enemies  meet,  Gerart  breaks  off 
from  the  lyrics  and  sings  more  martial,  epic  lines.  This 
citation,  which  affords  the  only  instance  where  the  source 
is  mentioned,  is  from  the  "  Roman  de  Guillaume  le  marchis 
au  court  ties''  a  title  used  by  the  author  of  the  Violette  to 
designate  Aliscans.i8  The  passage  is  sung  in  the  traditional 
epic  manner  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  vielle,  though  before 
the  meal  and  not  afterwards,  as  was  more  usually  the  case. 
Gerart  sings  of  the  wrath  of  Guillaume,  and  the  author  of 
the  Violette  gives  another  example  of  his  characterise  taste 
in  the  introduction  of  the  various  songs.  As  printed  by 
Michel 49  the  selection  consists  of  twenty-five  assonanced 
decasyllabic  lines.  In  this  selection  the  interesting  reference 
to  the  fable  of  The  Bull  and  the  Sheep  occurs. 

The  duenna  who  aided  Lisiart  to  betray  Oriaut  is  also  in 
the  castle.  Gerart  overhears  a  conversation  between  the 
accomplices  and  thus  learns  of  Oriaut's  innocence  and  Lisi- 
art's  treachery.  Gerart  at  once  sets  out  in  search  of  his 
lost  mistress,  and  here  the  story  takes  on  the  characteristics 
of  the  ordinary  roman  d'aventure.  It  will  be  necessary  to 
give  only  enough  of  the  plot  to  make  clear  the  manner  of 
introducing  the  songs.  One  day  Gerart  rescues  a  maiden, 
who  promptly  falls  in  love  with  her  rescuer  and  sings  to  him : 

48  Lines   3036  ff. 

*•  Violette,  lines  1407-1431 ;  the  passage  as  given  by  the  manu- 
scripts of  the  Violette  is  defective,  Michel  has  followed  the  version 
given  by  a  manuscript  containing  the  entire  poem  of  Aliscans,  see 
Violette,  p.  74. 

10 


146  BUFFUM  [18 

Tant  arai  bonne  amour  quise 
Cor  l'arai  a  ma  devise   (2056). 

These  lines  are  given  by  Bartsch  50  as  the  last  couplet  of  the 
fourth  stanza  of  an  anonymous  romance.  The  author  of  the 
Violette  has  already  quoted  the  refrain  of  the  first  stanza 
of  this  poem.51     As  published  by  Bartsch  the  lines  are : 

Mes  cuers  a  bone  amor  quise 
tant  c'or  l'a  a  sa  devise. 

The  future  tense  of  the  version  of  the  Violette  shows  the 
author's  tendency  to  adapt  his  quotations  to  his  context.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  in  the  case  of  the  other  refrain  bor- 
rowed from  this  song  the  author  of  the  Violette  also  altered 
the  lines  to  fit  his  context. 

Gerart  soon  sets  out  again  in  his  search  for  Oriaut.  In 
one  of  his  numerous  adventures  he  is  wounded  and  forced 
to  rest  at  the  house  of  a  certain  bourgeois.  The  latter's 
daughter  was  at  work  one  day  on  a  stole  and  an  amit  of 
silk  and  gold  and  was  embroidering  many  a  star  and  many 
a  cross.     As  she  worked  she  sang  this  chanson  a  toile: 

Siet  soi  biele  Euriaus,  seule  est  enclose; 
Ne  boit,  ne  ne  mangue,  ne  ne  repose; 
Souvent  se  elaimme  lasse,  souvent  se  cose 
C'a  son  ami  Renaut  parler  n'en  ose; 
Souvent  s'encrie  en  halt: 
"Ha!    Dex!   verrai-jou  ja  mon  douc  ami  Renaut!"    (2312). 

The  only  place  in  which  this  song  has  been  preserved  seems 
to   be   the    Violette.     It   is   from   this   source   that   Bartsch 

MRom.   und  Past.,   p.   39.     In   the  Poire,  by  Messire  Thibaut,  of 
the  last  quarter  of  the  thirteenth  century  perhaps,  the  song  reads: 

Tant  ai  leal  amor  quise 

C'or  le  sai  a  ma  devise,  11.  2413-14. 

Messire  Thibaut,  etc.,  F.  Stehlich,  Halle,  1881. 
"Lines  140-141. 


19]  THE   ROMAN  DE   LA  VIOLETTE  147 

obtained  it  for  his  Romanzen  und  Pastourellen.52  Accord- 
ing to  Gaston  Paris  53  there  have  been  preserved  only  sixteen 
of  these  chansons  a  toile  (of  which  there  are  six  in  the  Rose 
and  one  in  the  Violette).  They  are  so  named  because  they 
were  sung  by  women  as  they  embroidered  or  sewed.  They 
were  popular  in  the  twelfth  and,  as  this  selection  of  the 
Violette  shows,  in  the  early  thirteenth  centuries.  Gaston 
Paris  thinks  that  this  "  genre  charmant  et  vite  disparu  "  has 
survived  in  greatly  reduced  numbers. 

The  name  of  his  mistress  occurring  in  this  song  reminds 
Gerart  that  he  must  be  on  his  way  once  more,  and  he  sings 
for  his  comfort: 

Ainors,  quant  m'iert  ceste  painne  achievee 
Qui  si  me  fait  a  grant  dolour  languir? 
Souvent  mi  fait  mainte  dure  escaufee, 
Souvent  rouuer "  et  maintes   fois   palir, 
Fremir,  trambler,  tressuer,  tressaillir. 
Souventes  fois  m'est  a  joie  tornee, 
Et  aussi  tost  sor  le  point  de  morir    (2348). 

Michel 55  sees  in  this  song  a  contre-epreuve  of  the  fragment 
of  Sappho.  In  Huet's  edition  of  Gace  Brule's  works, 56  there 
is  a  chanson  which  slightly  resembles  this  song  of  the  Violette 
in  matter  and  in  rimes,  though  the  latter  are  there  reversed. 
Gerart  continues  his  search  for  his  lost  mistress  and  soon 
has  another  adventure  in  which  he  wins  the  love  of  one  more 
maiden  by  his  valorous  deeds.  This  girl  gives  vent  to  her 
feelings  as  follows : 

En  non  Diu,  c'est  la  rage 
Li    dous    maus    d'amer 
S'il  ne  m'asouage    (3126). 

52  P.    18. 

**  See  his  article  on  the  Chansons  in  Servois'  edition  of  the  Rose; 
also  J.  B.  Beck,  La  Musique  des  Troubadours,  Paris,  1910  (under 
chansons  a   toile,  pp.   100-104). 

M  Michel,  rogir.  M  Violette,  p.   116,  note. 

"P.  94. 


148  BUFPUM  [20 

These  lines  are  the  first  two  of  a  motet  given  by  Raynaud 
and  Lavoix ; 57  it  is  there  printed  as  follows : 

En  non  Diu,   Dieus,   e'est  la  rage 
Que  li  maus  d'amer  si  na  m'asoage! 

Similar  lines  may  be  found  in  an  anonymous  song  quoted 
by  Bartsch  58  and  in  one  by  Baudes  de  la  Kakerie,59  who  has 
already  furnished  a  refrain  for  the  Violette.60  While  the  girl 
sings  of  Gerart  in  the  song  just  given,  a  friend  of  hers,  who 
is  also  in  love  with  Gerart,  sings  in  reply  to  this  song: 

Vous  cantes   et  je  muir   d'amer: 

Ne  vous  est  gaires  de  mes  maus    (3143). 

This  refrain  occurs  in  a  pastourelle  published  by  Bartsch.61 
It  forms  a  part  of  the  refrain  to  the  second  stanza  and  there 
runs: 

vos  chanted  et  je  muir  d'amer: 
ne  vos  est  gaires  de  ma  mort? 

The  advances  of  these  girls  are  of  little  avail  with  Gerart, 
who  sings  a  little  later: 

Destrois,  pensis,  en  esmai, 
Cant  de  bonne  amor  souspris, 
Et  faic  samblant  cointe  et  gai 
La  ou  sui  plus  d'ire  espris. 
Ma  tres   douche  dame  ou  j'ai  pris 
Les  maus  dont  ja  ne  garrai, 

Ains  en  trai 
Les   painnes   com   fins  amis    (3244). 

This  is  the  first  stanza  of  a  song  by  Audefrois  li  Bastars. 

"  L.  c,  No.  exxxix    (i,  164). 

uRom.  und  Past.,  p.   191. 

w  Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  303. 

80  Variant  to  the  refrain  at  line  716. 

"Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  176. 


21]  THE   ROMAN  DE   LA  VIOLETTE  149 

The  entire  song  has  been  published  by  Brakelmann.62  A 
little  further  on  Gerart  again  sings  of  the  absent  Oriaut: 

Je  ne  le  voi  mie  chi 

Cheli  dont  j'atenc  ma  joie    (3333). 

I  have  been  unable  to  identify  this  refrain;  the  phrase  of 
the  last  line,  however,  is  common.63  The  girl  is  still  very 
much  in  love  and  a  little  later  she  sings : 

Ki  set  garir  des  maus  d'amer, 

Si  viegne  a  moi;  que  je  me  muir    (3452). 

These  rather  commonplace  lines  are  similar  to  the  refrain 
ending  with  line  3143  and  already  identified.  They  are 
similar  to  many  of  the  refrains  occurring  in  the  chansons; 
compare  the  following  given  by  Bartsch : 64 

Au  cuer  les  ai,  les  jolis  malz: 
Coment  en  guariroie  ?  " 

Perhaps  we  have  here  a  refrain  composed  from  memory  by 
the  author  of  the  Violette,  or  formed  by  utilizing  the  com- 
monplace ideas  of  several  refrains. 

Soon  afterwards  Gerart  sings  before  the  love-sick  girl  the 
following  song  in  honor  of  Oriaut,  a  stanza  which  I  have 
been  unable  to  identify: 

Par  .j.  seul  baisier  de  cuer  a  loisir 
Poroit  longhement  mes  maus  adoucir; 
Mais   de   desirier   me   fera   morir. 

S'encor   n'en  ai   joie, 

Bonne  est  la  dolours 

Dont  il  vient 

Et  honnours   et   joie    (3654). 

**A.  und  A.,  vol.  xciv,  p.  90,  Marburg,  1896. 

63  Cf.  Raynaud  et  Lavoix,  Motets,  No.  lv. 

"Rom.  und  Past.,  21.  > 

45  Cf.   also   Bartsch,   Rom.  und  Past.,   p.   30   and   p.    79. 


]  50  BUFFTJM  [22 

The  girl's  jealousy  is  aroused  and  she  wishes  to  know  whom 
Gerart  so  honors;  he  replies: 

Adeviner  pores  cui  j'aimme, 

Par  moi  ne  le  sares-vous  ja    (3673). 

An  idea  similar  to  one  given  by  Jeanroy : 66 

Ja  par  moi  n'iert  noumee 
cele  cui  j'ai  amee. 

A  little  later  Gerart  again  sings  of  his  love: 

J'atenc  de  li  ma  joie: 

Diex!    arai   le   jou   ja?    (4180). 

A  typical  refrain  of  the  poesie  courtoise,  with  which  the 
following  given  by  Jeanroy,66  may  be  compared: 

Mais  n'aurai  joie  en  ma  vie, 
dame,   se  de  vous  ne  me  vient. 

This  refrain  is  also  similar  to  that  already  cited  at  lines 
3332-3333. 

As  Gerart  again  sets  out  in  search  of  Oriaut  he  sings  the 
second  (the  third,  if  the  variant  of  the  first  be  counted) 
Provengal  song  of  the  Violette,  which  proves  to  be  by  Ber- 
nard de  Ventadour.  It  may  be  found  in  the  Provengal 
chrestomathies  of  Bartsch  67  and  Appel.68  The  stanza  is  also 
given  by  the  Rose.69  Michel  has  substituted  the  version 
given  by  Eaynouard  70  for  that  given  by  the  manuscripts  of 
the  Violette,  which  he  considers  extremement  defigure.  The 
corrupt  version  of  the  better  of  the  two  Parisian  manuscripts 
is  as  follows: 

Quant  voi  la  loete  moder 
De  ioi  ses  ele  contre  rai, 


M  Origines  de  la  poe'sie  lyrique  en  France,  p.  121. 
"Column  68.  MP.  56.  "Line  5197. 

T0  Choix  des  poisies   originates   des   troubadours,  ill,  p.   68. 


23]  THE   ROMAN  DE   LA  VIOLETTE  151 

Qui    s'oblide   et    laisse    cader 
Pour   la  douchour  c'al   cors   li   vai; 
Dex!    tant  grant  anuide  mi   fai 
De  li  quant  vi  la  jausion! 
Mirabillas  son  cant  fait 
Anui  le  felon    (4201). 

Gaston  Paris  has  given  this  stanza  reconstructed  from  the 
two  Parisian  manuscripts  of  the  Violette.71  He  does  not, 
however,  cite  the  variants  except  to  call  attention  to  the 
fact  that  in  one  manuscript  the  song  is  called  a  son  poitevin 
and  in  the  other  a  son  provengal.  Paris  thinks  that  the 
presence  of  the  Provengal  songs  in  the  Rose  proves  their 
popularity  in  northern  France  as  late  as  the  twelfth  century. 
Their  presence  in  the  Violette  shows  that  the  time  may  be 
extended  to  1225  or  1230.  Paris  is  also  of  the  opinion  that 
these  songs  were  brought  to  the  North  by  the  jongleurs  in 
their  repertory  of  love  songs,  and  that  the  various  versions 
of  this  song  by  Bernard,  preserved  in  northern  manuscripts, 
go  back  to  a  common  source.72  Of  the  three  songs  of  Pro- 
vengal origin  in  the  Violette  (one  being  merely  a  variant), 
two  are  in  the  Provengal  dialect  and  one  has  been  translated 
into  the  langue  d'o'il;  two  are  by  Bernard  de  Ventadour  and 
one  is  of  unknown  authorship.  Of  the  three  Provengal 
songs  of  the  Rose,  two  are  there  given  in  the  northern  dia- 
lect and  one  in  Provengal.  They  are  by  Geoff roi  Eudel, 
Bernard  de  Ventadour  and  probably  Eigaud  de  Barbezieux. 
The  tendency  already  mentioned  on  the  part  of  the  author 
of  the  Violette  to  shorten  the  selections  may  be  seen  also  in 
the  case  of  the  song  of  Bernard  de  Ventadour  cited  in  both 
the  Rose  and  the  Violette.  Two  stanzas  are  given  in  the 
former. 

Gerart  again  takes  up  his  search  for  Oriaut  and  one  of 
the  deserted  girls  sings: 

"  Servois,  Rose,  p.  cxvi. 

"  See  his  article  on  the  Chansons  in  Servois'  edition  of  the  Rose. 


152  BUFFUM  [24 

Dex!   li  cuers  me  faurra  ja: 
Trop  le  desir  a  veoir    (4352). 

These  lines  are  given  by  Bartsch  73  as  the  refrain  to  the  first 
stanza  of  an  anonymous  pastourelle. 

The  girl  sends  a  messenger  in  search  of  Gerart  and  as  the 
messenger  leaves  she  sings  to  him : 

Vous  qui   la  ires,  pour   Diu,   dites-lui 

C'a  la  mort  m'a  trait  s'il  n'en  a  merchi    (4417). 

This  is  the  refrain  of  the  third  stanza  of  the  pastourelle 
from  which  the  preceding  refrain  was  taken.74 

As  Gerart  rides  on  in  search  of  Oriaut,  he  sings  a  refrain 
which  I  have  been  unable  to  identify,  it  is: 

Volentiers   verroie 

Cui  je  sui  amis: 

Diex  m'i   maint   a  joie!     (4487). 

Again  he  sings: 

Par   Diu!     Amours,  grief  m'est  a  consirer 

Dou  douch  solas  et  de  la  compaignie, 

Et  des  biaus  mos  dont  sot  a  moi  plaire, 

Cele  ki  m'ert  dame,  compaigne,  amie, 

Et  quant  recort  sa  simple  cortoisie 

Et  son  douc  vis  et  son  viaire  cler, 

Comment  me  puet  li  cuers  el  cors  durer 

Que  ne  s'en  part?  certes,  trop  est  malvais    (4638). 

This  stanza  has  been  identified  by  Michel  as  the  third  of  a 
song  by  the  Chatelain  de  Couei  and  has  been  published  by 
Michel  in  his  edition  of  this  poet's  works.75  The  song  as 
given  above  is  corrupt.  Michel's  edition  of  the  Violette  gives 
the  stanza  reconstructed  from  both  the  Parisian  manuscripts. 

73  Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  134;  see  also  A.  und  A.,  op.  eit.,  p.  82. 
u  See  Bartsch,  Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  135. 

,B  P.  79 ;  see  also  Brakelmann,  Les  plus  anciens  chansonniers  fran- 
cais,  p.  104. 


25]  THE   ROMAN  DE  LA  VIOLETTE  153 

Gerart,  intent  on  his  search  for  Oriaut,  unintentionally 
makes  another  conquest  in  the  course  of  his  wanderings, 
but  he  is  soon  on  his  way  again  and  this  time  the  girl  sings 
as  he  leaves: 

Lasse!    comment  porrai   durer? 

Or  ne  sai  mais  que  devenir 

Quant  cil  que  je  voloie  amer 

Ne  m'a  daigne  ne  velt  ofr, 

Si  ne  me  puis  recomforter, 

Ains  m'estuet  le  mal  endurer 
Ki   me  destraint  et  lasse  et  fait  fremir; 
Ne  de  nule  autre  amour  ne  quier  joir   (5065). 

Michel  has  pointed  out  the  resemblance  of  the  first  line  of 
this  stanza  to  the  following  from  Renart  le  Nouvel: 

Diex!    comment  porroie  sans   celui  durer, 
Qui  me  tient  en  joie  ? 76 

Gerart  hears  the  song,  but  he  is  so  little  affected  that  he 
sings  of  Oriaut: 

Or  aroie  amouretes 

Se  voloie   demourer    (5076). 

Though  I  have  been  unable  to  find  the  source  of  this  refrain, 
refrains  so  ending  are  not  rare.  The  rime  is  furnished  by 
the  lines  of  the  preceding  stanza.77 

Towards  the  end  of  the  Violette,18  after  Gerart's  search 


"Violette,  p.  236. 

"  Cf.  Bartsch,  Rom.  und  Past.,  p.  43. 

"At  line  5106  the  poorer  Parisian  manuscript  (B.  N.,  fr.  1374) 
substitutes  for  twelve  (not  thirteen  as  stated  by  Michel)  lines  of 
the  better  manuscript  twenty-two  lines  which  include  this  com- 
monplace refrain:  Sains  cors  Deu!  quant  averai  cell  cui  j'aimf 
Though  both  the  St.  Petersburg  and  the  New  York  manuscripts 
follow  this  reading,  the  passage  is  poorer  than  the  version  given 
by  the  best  manuscript  and  was  probably  a  later  interpolation. 


154  BUFFUM  [26 

has  been  successful  and  the  lovers  are  once  more  together, 
Oriaut  sings : 

J'ai   recouvree  ma  ioie  par  Men  amer    (5708), 
and   Gerart  replies : 

Nus  ne  doit  amie  avoir 

N'amer  par  droit,  ki  miex  n'en  doie  valoir    (5721). 

Waitz,79  gives  a  song  of  Gillebert  de  Berneville,  which 
contains  the  idea  of  the  latter  of  these  refrains.     It  is : 

Por  valoir  ' 

Doit  avoir 

Chascuns   bone   amor 
Sans  movoir. 

Again  Gerart  sings  to  Oriaut  a  song  that  proves  to  be  the 
first  stanza  of  a  song  by  Gace  Brule : 80 

Ne  mi  sont  pas  ochoison  de  canter 

Pres  ne  vergies,  plaseis  ne  buisson: 

Quant  ma  dame  mi  plaist  a  commander, 

N'i  puis  trouver  plus  loial  ochoison; 

Et  molt  m'est  bon  que  sa  valour  retraie, 

Sa  grant  biaute  et  sa  coulour  vraie, 

Dont  Dex  li  volt  si  grant  plente  donner 

Que  les  autres  m'en  couvient  oublier    (5798). 

Then  follow  three  songs  that  have  not  been  identified. 
Gerart  sings  to  Oriaut: 

J'en  sai  .ij.,  li  uns  en  sui, 

Cui  Amors  ont  fait  grant  anui    (6127),81 

"In  Festgabe  fiir  O.  Qrober,  No.  4. 

MHuet's  edition,   p.   45. 

wTarb€,  Chansonniers  de  Champagne,  quotes  a  jeu  parti  of  about 
1220  from  Bertrand  Cordielle,  in  which  the  last  two  lines  of  the 
fourth  stanza  are: 

Soffrir  atrait  amors,  certains  en  sui; 
Et  orguels  fait  a  mainte  gens  anui. 


27]  THE   ROMAN  DE   LA  VIOLETTE  155 

and  Oriaut  replies: 

Bones  sont  amors  dont  on  trait  mal    (6130). 

The  latter  is  given  only  in  the  poorer  of  the  two  Parisian 
manuscripts. 

The  final  song  of  the  Violette  is  given  after  the  marriage 
of  Gerart  and  Oriaut.     Gerart  sings  to  Oriaut: 

Qui  bien  aimme  ne  se  doit  esmaier 
Pour  grevanche  c'Amors  sache  envoier; 
Que  a  chelui  donne  double  loier 
Ki  pour  lui  trait  plus  de  painne  et  essaie; 
Ne  sans  amour  n'a  nus  joie  vraie   ( 6622 ) . 

In  conclusion,  the  Roman  de  la  Violette,  one  of  the  best 
known  romans  d'aventure,  is,  just  as  the  Roman  de  la  Rose, 
thoroughly  imbued  with  the  aristocratic  spirit  and  may  be 
regarded  as  representing  in  part  the  literature  of  the  higher 
classes  of  French  society  when  medieval  civilization  was  at 
its  height.  The  songs  introduced  were  therefore  of  the 
style  that  would  appeal  to  such  a  society,  and  they  illustrate 
the  kind  of  lyric  literature  prevailing  at  the  courts  of  Louis 
VIII  and  Louis  IX. 

Of  the  forty-four  songs  found  in  the  Violette,  the  majority 
(twenty-eight)  consist  of  refrains  usually  given  as  chansons 
a  carole,  with  or  without  the  accompanying  dance.  These 
refrains  of  from  one  to  three  lines  are  generally  considered  to 
be  the  debris  of  older  dance-songs.  They  have,  however, 
been  strongly  colored  by  the  aristocratic  or  court  spirit  that 
came  from  the  South,  and,  besides,  the  refrains  of  the 
Violette  are  probably  only  twelfth  or  thirteenth  century  court 
imitations  of  earlier  refrains.  The  first  seven  carols  are  sung 
in  April  at  Easter,  and  mention  is  also  made  of  the  garlands 
worn  by  the  men  as  they  go  singing  another  song.  There 
may  be  here  a  connection  with  the  earlier  May  festivals,  for 
which  the  earliest  lyrics  seem  to  have  been  composed  and 
sung,  and  which  are  regarded  by  Gaston  Paris  as  a  survival 


156  BUFFDM  [28 

of  an  old  pagan  custom.  In  the  Violette,  however,  the  popu- 
lar character  has  disappeared. 

Most  of  these  brief  refrains  have  been  identified,  and  we 
have  seen  them  figuring  as  refrains  in  what  Bartsch  called 
romances,  which  was  a  blanket  term  used  by  him  to  include 
chansons  a  toile,  chansons  de  mal  mariee,  debats,  etc.;  or 
they  appear  as  refrains  in  the  pastourelles.  In  certain  cases 
the  author  of  the  Violette  exactly  followed  the  original,  in 
others  he  adapted  the  original  to  the  requirements  of  his 
context,  in  a  few  instances  he  may  have  blended  several  re- 
frains into  one  or  composed  one  refrain  out  of  several  from 
his  memory.  In  the  case  of  the  refrains  that  have  been 
identified,  the  author  of  the  Violette  may  not,  of  course, 
have  copied  the  version  that  I  have  found.  Both  writers 
may  have  copied  an  earlier  model.  In  one  instance  we  find 
the  author  quoting  a  stanza,  but  with  the  substitution  of  a 
different  refrain.  The  refrain  was  thus  felt  to  be  some- 
thing distinct  from  the  stanza,  and  doubtless  many  of  the 
refrains  given  by  Bartsch  were  never  composed  for  the 
songs  in  which  they  occur.  The  number  of  refrains  in  the 
Violette  and  the  Rose  is  almost  the  same,  but  neither  offers 
an  example  of  the  rondel,  the  older  form  of  the  triolet,  which 
was  built  up  from  just  such  refrains.  There  is,  however, 
in  the  Violette  an  instance  of  a  refrain  which  occurs  in 
Bartsch  as  the  refrain  of  a  rondel.82 

Of  the  twenty-eight  refrains  of  the  Violette,  twelve  have 
been  identified,  resemblances  of  eleven  to  refrains  occurring 
elsewhere  have  been  pointed  out,  and  five  have  not  been 
found. 

Of  the  sixteen  songs  which  are  not  refrains,  but  consist 
of  a  number  of  lines,  four  are  by  Gace  Brule,  one  each  by 
Moniot  d' Arras,  the  Chatelain  de  Couci  and  Audefrois  li 
Bastars,  two  from  the  Provencal  poet  Bernard  de  Ventadour, 
one  is  an  anonymous  chanson  de  toile  occurring  only  in  the 

"Violette,  lines  151-152. 


29]  THE   ROMAN  DE  LA  VIOLETTE  157 

Violette,  one  is  from  an  epic  of  the  southern  cycle,  Aliscans, 
and  five  have  not  been  found  (except  for  minor  resemblances). 

These  longer  lyrics,  as  well  as  the  refrains,  are  in  the 
courtois  style.  The  conventional  idea  of  the  mat  mariee,  the 
idea  that  love  is  incompatible  with  marriage,  that  the  hus- 
band is  the  arch-enemy,  represent  a  phase  of  the  Provengal 
influence,  but  by  no  means  represent  ideas  common  to  all. 
If  society  as  a  whole  had  believed  in  these  ideas,  the  logical 
result,  as  Gaston  Paris  suggests,  would  have  been  the  aboli- 
tion of  marriage. 

Lastly,  the  Violette  is  the  second  roman  d'aventure  to  in- 
troduce these  songs,  and  by  his  method  the  author  should 
be  placed  between  the  author  of  the  Rose,  who  never  brings 
in  a  refrain  of  one  line,  and  the  later  imitators,  who  scarcely 
use  anything  but  these  brief  refrains.  The  Violette,  by 
never  citing  more  than  one  stanza  of  the  longer  songs,  also 
illustrates  this  tendency  to  reduce  the  length  of  the  quota- 
tions. In  never  mentioning  the  source  from  which  the  songs 
were  drawn  (the  epic  passage  is  of  course  excepted),  the 
Violette  conforms  to  the  later  fashion.  On  the  other  hand,  in 
the  choice  of  his  quotations  and  in  the  manner  of  introducing 
them  (in  addition  to  the  title  of  his  work  and  the  motif 
of  the  flower)  the  author  of  the  Violette  closely  follows  the 
Rose,  but  shows  superior  taste  in  adapting  his  songs  to  the 
context. 


A   CLASSIC   FRENCH    TRAGEDY  BASED    ON   AN 
ANECDOTE   TOLD  OF   CHARLES  THE  BOLD 

BY 

H.  Carrington  Lancaster 


The  fact  that  Corneille  and  Racine  drew  their  tragic  ma- 
terial largely  from  ancient  sources  has  given  rise  to  a  belief, 
current  in  America,  if  not  elsewhere,  that  modern  subjects 
were  never  allowed  by  authors  of  French  classic  plays.  "  The 
subjects  of  French  tragedy,"  a  prominent  American  scholar  x 
has  recently  stated,  "  were,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  taken 
exclusively  from  the  Bible  (Old  Testament)  history  or  from 
Greek  and  Roman  history  and  legend."  If  the  Cid  and 
Bajazet  should  be  cited  to  prove  this  statement  erroneous,  the 
reply  might  be  made  that  the  former  was  written  before  the 
classic  manner  became  thoroughly  established  and  was  at  first 
called  a  tragi-comedy,  not  a  tragedy,  while  the  choice  of  the 
latter  subject  made  necessary  Racine's  explanation  that  the 
"  eloignement  des  pays  repare  en  quelque  sorte  la  trop  grande 
proximite  des  temps."  2 

But  the  Cid  and  Bajazet  are  by  no  means  the  only  classic 
tragedies  with  modern  subjects,  nor  are  Turkish  and  Spanish 
history  alone  utilized.  England,  for  example,  furnished  sub- 
jects from  the  lives  of  Edward  III,  Thomas  More,  Lady  Jane 
Grey,  and  especially  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  and  the  Earl  of 
Essex.  National  tragedies  were  written  concerning  Anne  of 
Brittany  and  Joan  of  Arc.  These  plays  and  others  that  could 
be  mentioned   show  that   the  modern   subject,  though   less 

l.T.    F.    Crane    in    his    introduction   to    Cbatfield-Taylor's    Moliire, 
p.  XIX. 
'Bajazet,  second  preface. 

1]  159 


160  LANCASTER  [2 

popular  than  the  ancient,  was  freely  admitted  throughout  the 
classic  period. 

It  ought  not  to  surprise  us,  therefore,  to  find  among  such 
plays  Le  Jugement  equitable  de  Charles  le  Hardy  dernier  due 
de  Bourgoigne?  a  tragedy  published  by  Antoine  Mareschal  in 
1646,  concerning  events  supposed  to  have  happened  almost  on 
French  soil  less  than  two  centuries  before.  A  study  of  this 
work  shows  how  modern  history  was  treated  by  classic 
dramatists  and  gives  an  opportunity  to  compare  seventeenth 
century  with  sixteenth  century  handling  of  the  same  material, 
for  the  story  had  already  given  rise  to  a  Latin  Philanira 
(1556),  turned  by  the  author,  Claude  Eouillet,  into  French 
as  Philanire,  femme  d'  Hypolite  (1571). 

The  plot  of  these  plays  is  derived  from  an  historical  inci- 
dent, which  occurred  many  years  after  Charles's  death  and  of 
which  he  was  subsequently  made  the  hero.  It  is  concisely  told 
in  the  argument  to  Philanira  and  its  French  translation : 

"  Quelques  annees  sont  passees,  depuis  qu'une  Dame  de 
Piemont  impetra  du  Preuost  du  lieu,  que  son  mari  lors 
prisonnier  pour  quelque  concussion,  et  desia  prest  a  receuoir 
iugement  de  mort,  luy  seroit  rendu,  moyennant  une  nuit 
qu'elle  luy  presteroit.  Ce  fait,  son  mari  le  iour  suiuant  luy 
est  rendu,  mais  ia  execute  de  mort.  Elle  esploree  de  1'  une  et 
l'autre  iniure,  a  son  recours  au  gouuerneur,  qui  pour  luy 
garantir  son  honneur,  contraint  ledit  Preuost  a  Pespouser,  puis 
le  fait  decapiter :  et  la  Dame  ce  pendant  demeure  despourueue 
de  ses  deux  maris."  In  the  play  this  "  gouuerneur  "  is  called 
the  "  Vice  Eoy  "  of  the  French  king,  a  clear  reference  to  the 
Marechal  de  Brissac,  who  governed  Piedmont  for  Henry  II 
from  1550  to  1559  and  who  is  named  by  Belleforest  as  the 
hero  of  this  tale.4 

Another  version  is  given  in  a  certain  Histoire  d'ltalie,  cited 

8  Paris,  Toussainct  Quinet. 

4  Belleforest's  version  is  found  in  the  Sixiesme  Tome  des  Histoires 
trctgiques,  Paris,  1582,  pp.  171-191;  also,  incompletely,  in  Golart, 
Thrc'sor  d'Histoires  admirables  et  me'morables,  Geneva,  1620,  I,  304-5. 


3]  A   CLASSICAL   FRENCH    TRAGEDY  161 

by  Goulart,5  in  which  1517  is  mentioned  as  the  date  of  the 
event ;  the  Duke  of  Ferrara  is  the  hero ;  a  Spanish  captain,  the 
villain ;  a  citizen  of  Como,  the  husband.  Pierre  Matthieu  '5 
changes  the  Duke  of  Ferrara  to  "  Don  Ferdinand  de  Gonzague, 
lieutenant  general  de  l'Empereur  Charles  V."  John  Cooke  7 
follows  Goulart  more  closely,  adding  the  names  of  the  Duke  of 
Ferrara,  the  Spanish  captain,  and  his  victim.  A  similar 
story,  in  which  the  woman  is  the  sister  of  the  murdered  man 
and  the  avenging  ruler  is  the  Emperor  Maximian,  was  pub- 
lished in  1565  by  Giovanbattista  Giraldi  Cinthio,8  and  became 
the  source  of  Shakespeare's  Measure  for  Measure  through  the 
version  given  by  Whetstone  in  Promos  and  Cassandra  (1578) 
and  Heptameron  (1582).°  We  shall  see  presently  that 
Charles  the  Bold  was  made  the  hero  of  the  story  by  Pontus 
Heuterus  (1584)  and  others.  Lupton  10  gives  a  vague  account, 
in  which  the  hero  is  a  judge.  John  Eeynolds ll  tells  the 
story  of  Gustavus  Adolphus.  Pomfret  in  1699  made  Colonel 
Kirke  the  villain  of  an  incomplete  version,  to  which  more 
modern  parallels  are  not  wanting.12 

Now,  in  the  absence  of  contemporary  evidence  to  the  con- 
trary, we  have  no  right  to  suppose  that  so  complex  a  story 
as  this  arose  independently  at  various  periods  and  in  various 
localities.13    The  versions  must  have  had  some  common  source, 

5  Ibid.,  Paris,  1601,  i,  2nd  part,  pp.  59-60. 

6  In  a  note  to  his  Histoire  de  Louis  Onze,  1610,  p.  292. 

I  Vindication  of  the  professors  and  profession  of  the  laics,  1646,  p. 
61.  For  this  and  other  references,  cf.  Douce,  Illustrations,  London. 
1807,  I,  152-60  and  n,  274. 

8  Hecatommithi,  Mondovi,  1565,  viii,  5. 

*  Cf.  Shakespeare's  Library,  London,  1875,  HI,  155  sq. 

10  Siqvila.     Too  good  to  be  true,  London,  1580. 

II  Ood's  Revenge  against  Adultery,  added  in  1679  to  the  sixth 
edition  of  Reynold's  Triumph  of  God's  Revenge  against  Murder. 

u  Cruelty  and  Lust  in  English  Poets,  London,  1810.  Cf.  Macaulay, 
History  of  England),  I,  577-78. 

u  Similar  stories  of  independent  origin  are  incomplete.  St. 
Augustine,  De  Sermone  Domini  in  Monte,  I,  50,  tells  of  a  poor  man's 

11 


162  LANCASTER  [4 

whose  nature  will  best  be  determined  by  consulting  the  narra- 
tives of  men  who  wrote  shortly  after  the  occurrence  of  the 
events  described.  Of  the  early  narrators,  Lupton  failed  to 
locate  or  date  his  version;  Giraldi  and  Heuterus  were  not 
contemporaries  of  the  persons  they  wrote  about.  There  re- 
main Eouillet,  Belleforest,  and,  as  representing  an  earlier 
Histoire  d'ltalie,  Goulart,  Matthieu,  and  Cooke.  These  five 
versions  place  the  scene  of  the  tragedy  in  Northern  Italy  14 
and  connect  it  with  the  wars  between  France  and  Spain  which 
took  place  about  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century.  They 
differ  regarding  the  exact  date  and  the  names  of  the  persons 
involved. 

As  Eouillet  and  Belleforest  are  describing  recent  events,  it 
is  probable  that  they  are  correct  in  making  Brissac  the  hero 
of  the  incident,  which  must  in  that  case  have  occurred  be- 
tween 1550  and  1555,  the  dates  of  Brissac's  appointment  as 
G-overnor  of  Piedmont  and  of  the  publication  of  Eouillet's 
Latin  play.  The  latter's  contemporary  testimony  is  hard  to 
overthrow,  but  it  is  possible  that  the  event  may  have  involved 
Hercule  d'Este  or  Ferdinand  de  Gonzague  rather  than  Brissac 
and  that  the  story,  coming  to  Eouillet  through  French  sources, 
may  thus  have  acquired  as  hero  the  French  king's  represen- 
tative in  Italy. 

Concluding,  then,  that  the  story  originated  from  events 
that  occurred  in  Northern  Italy  towards  1550  much  as  Eouil- 
let relates  them,  we  must  now  determine  how  Charles  the 
Bold  was  substituted  for  Brissac  or  Hercule  d'Este  as  the  hero 
of  the  tale.     Barante  accepts  Charles's  connection  with  the 

wife,  who,  to  save  her  husband,  sold  herself  to  a  rich  man  for  a 
sack  of  gold  and  received  a  sack  of  earth  in  payment.  There,  too, 
the  ruler  intervened,  but  the  husband  was  not  put  to  death  and, 
of  course,  there  was  no  idea  of  the  murderer's  marriage  to  the 
widow  and   his   subsequent  execution. 

"Giraldi's  version  helps  to  confirm  the  location  of  the  story  in 
Northern  Italy,  where  the  writer  lived  and  composed  the  Hecatom- 
mithi. 


5]  A   CLASSICAL   FRENCH    TRAGEDY  163 

story  as  true,  but  J.  F.  Kirke  rejects  it  because  of  parallel 
accounts  referring  to  other  rulers  and  the  silence  of  con- 
temporary authors,  such  as  Comines  and  Chastellain,  with 
regard  to  it.15  The  first  author  who  connects  Charles  with  the 
story  is  Pontus  Heuterus  16  in  1584,  who  follows  Rouillet's 
account  with  some  changes  of  detail,  new  characters,  and 
location  in  the  Netherlands  about  the  year  1469. 

But  two  stories  of  a  somewhat  similar  nature  had  already 
been  told  of  Charles  by  writers  of  the  Low  Countries.  Eenier 
Snoy  or  Snoius,17  who  lived  from  1467  to  1537  and  conse- 
quently wrote  not  long  after  Charles's  death,  states  that,  about 
1469,  just  after  the  capture  of  Liege,  Charles  came  to  Zeeland 
and  heard  the  complaint  of  a  woman  whose  daughter  had  been 
ravished  by  a  "  consul  praedives."  He  ordered  the  culprit  to 
marry  the  girl  or  give  her  half  his  possessions  and,  when  he 
refused,  had  him  put  to  death,  although  before  the  execution 
the  man  offered  to  obey  Charles's  first  command.  Jacques 
Meyer,18  who  died  in  1552,  tells  of  events  that  occurred  at  the 
same  period  of  Charles's  life,  with  the  scene  in  Holland  in- 
stead of  Zeeland.  One  of  his  officers  tortured  a  citizen  of 
Liege  and  ravished  his  wife  when  she  came  to  beg  for  her  hus- 
band's liberty.  Charles  had  him  put  to  death  as  in  the 
Italian  story,  but  there  is  no  mention  of  marriage  between 
the  widow  and  the  murderer. 

I  cannot  vouch  for  the  historical  accuracy  of  either  of  these 
accounts.  As  their  authors  lived  shortly  after  Charles,  and 
as  the  stories  are  neither  improbable  nor  too  remarkable  to 
have  been  overlooked  by  earlier  historians,  it  seems  likely  that 

M  Barante,  Histoire  des  Dues  de  Bourgogne,  Paris,  1837,  n,  p. 
65  sq. ;   Kirke,  History  of  Charles  the  Bold,  London,  1864,  I,  516. 

" Rerum  Burgundicarum  libri  sex,  v,  393-398  (Edition  of  1639). 
As  he  states  that  his  story  comes  "e  manuscripto  libello,"  it  is 
probable  that  Rouillet  is  not  his  immediate  source. 

11  De  rebus  batavicis,  XI,  159,  first  published  as  the  second  part  of 
Rerum  Belgicarum  Annates,  Frankfort,  1620. 

u  Commentarii  sive  annates  rerum,  Flandricarum,  Antwerp,  1561. 


164  LANCASTER  [6 

they  are  true.  At  any  rate  they  appear  to  furnish  Heuterus 
with  the  time  and  place  of  his  narrative,  Holland  or  Zeeland 
towards  1469,  just  after  the  capture  of  Liege.  While  they  do 
not  contain  the  most  important  clement  of  Eouillet's  story,  the 
marriage  of  the  widow  to  her  husband's  murderer,  they  have 
enough  in  common  with  it  to  suggest  the  introduction  of 
Charles  as  the  hero  of  the  Italian  tale.  This,  I  take  it,  is 
the  correct  explanation:  the  story  that  is  told  us  first  by 
Eouillet  was  adapted  to  Charles  the  Bold  by  the  influence  of 
Snoy  and  Meyer.  Whether  the  fusion  was  made  by  Heuterus, 
or  by  the  author  of  the  manuscript  he  mentions,  remains 
unknown.  It  is  Heuterus  who  put  the  complete  story  into 
general  circulation.19 

Heuterus  was  followed  by  Lipsius  in  1605,  and  he  by  Pierre 
Mathieu  in  1610.20  Mareschal  probably  derives  his  version 
from  the  latter  rather  than  directly  from  Heuterus  or  Lipsius, 
for  there  seems  to  be  a  case  of  verbal  imitation,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  Mathieu  uses  little  dialogue  and  Mareschal  writes 
in  verse.  "  Rendez  moy  a,  moy  et  ie  vous  rendray  vostre  mary ; 
il   est  mon  prisonier  et  ie  suis  le  vostre,  il  est  en  vostre 

18  Douce  suggests  that  the  story  of  Olivier  le  Bain's  death  may  have 
given  rise  to  Charles's  connection  with  this  narrative  and  refers  to 
Comines,  edition  of  Godefroy,  Brussels,  1723.  But  the  story  there 
related  is  taken,  not  from  Comines,  but  from  Boistel's  Tragiques 
accident,  Paris,  1616,  and  it  is  incomplete,  leaving  out  the  essential 
incident  of  the  widow's  marriage. 

20  Op.  cit.,  vn,  290-292.  A  similar  story  is  told  by  Goulart,  op. 
cit.,  ni,  373-374  (Edition  of  1628),  in  which  Charles  forced  a  noble 
to  marry  a  girl  he  had  raped  and  then  put  him  to  death.  The  date 
is  uncertain,  for  Goulart  gives  as  his  sources  "  George  Luterberg  au 
2  livre  des  Magistrats  "  and  "  Spangenberg  en  son  traict6  du  droit 
usage  de  la  chasse."  I  have  been  unable  to  find  out  anything  about 
the  first  of  these;  if  the  second  reference  is  to  Cyriaque  Spangenberg, 
Der  Jagdteuffel,  Eisleben,  1560,  the  version  is  older  than  Heuterus 
and  may  have  had  some  influence  upon  him.  I  imagine,  however, 
that  it  is  a  later  version  of  our  story,  adapted  to  the  needs  of  writers 
on  hunting  legislation. 


7]  A   CLASSICAL    FRENCH   TRAGEDY  165 

puissance  de  nous  mettre  tous  deux  en  liberte."  21     Mareschal 
writes  in  his  opening  scene: 

"  II  est  mon  criminel  et  moy  ie  suis  le  vostre. 
Conseruez  le  par  moy,  conseruez  moy  par  luy." 

In  England,  Lipsius's  version  is  followed  by  Wanley  and 
Burton 22  while  Heuterus,  through  the  narrative  in  Bayle's 
dictionary,  inspired  Steele  to  write  article  491  of  the  Specta- 
tor. 

We  see,  then,  how  this  North  Italian  incident,  dramatized 
by  Eouillet  and  recounted  by  others,  was  fused  with  Dutch 
anecdotes  of  Charles  in  the  version  of  Heuterus  and  thus, 
through  Lipsius  and  Mathieu,  gave  rise  to  Mareschal's 
tragedy.  But  the  two  plays,  thus  connected  historically,  differ 
widely  in  the  treatment  of  the  material. 

Eouillet's  play  23  begins  with  Philanire's  expression  of  grief 
at  her  husband's  imprisonment.  Advised  by  her  maids,  she 
appeals  to  the  prevot,  Seuere,  who  falls  in  love  with  her  and 
makes  her  the  proposition  mentioned.  After  renewed  lamen- 
tations she  is  moved  by  the  love  of  her  children  to  consent  to 
the  loss  o'f  her  honor,  but  she  is  rewarded  in  the  morning  by 
the  jests  of  Seuere  and  the  sight  of  her  husband's  corpse. 

"  Voyla  eeluy  que  demandez  si  fort 
Voiez  vous  pas  de  quel  sommeil  il  dort 
Tout  estendu?" 

In  the  fourth  act  the  widow  demands  vengeance  of  the 
French  king's  viceroy,  newly  come  into  Piedmont.  The  chil- 
dren, who  accompany  her,  complain  of  their  black  garments 
and  are  reproved  by  their  mother  for  not  rather  mourning  for 

n  Mathieu,   loc.  cit. 

28  Of.  Douce,  loc.  cit.,  who  refers  to  Wanley,  Wonders  of  the  little 
world,  ill,  29,  and  Burton,   Unparalleled  Varieties,  42. 

aAs  Rouillet's  French  play  is  a  close  translation  of  his  Latin 
tragedy,  the  two  works  will  'be  discussed  as  one. 


166  LANCASTER  [8 

their  father.  The  viceroy,  shocked  at  her  story,  summons 
Seuere  and,  finding  that  there  is  no  doubt  of  his  guilt,  orders 
him  to  espouse  the  widow.  After  some  slight  hesitation,  both 
Philanire  and  Seuere  consent  "  de  bien  bon  cceur "  and  the 
wedding  is  ordered  to  take  place  at  once.  In  the  fifth  act 
we  are  told  by  a  messenger  that  the  morning  after  the  mar- 
riage the  viceroy  had  Seuere  put  to  death,  whereupon  Philanire 
enters,  lamenting  the  loss  of  the  two  husbands,  apparently 
equally  dear.  She  leaves  the  stage  meditating  suicide,  which 
the  messenger  hopes  to  prevent. 

This  analysis  shows  how  incapable  Eouillet  is  of  changing 
his  plot  except  in  details,  how  he  fails  to  see  that  the  last  two 
acts  destroy  the  effect  of  the  first  three  by  showing  the  in- 
sincerity of  Philanire's  grief,  how  his  interest  in  the  bizarre 
stultifies  his  tragic  appeal,  while  he  is  not  a  good  enough 
story  teller  to  avoid  impeding  his  action  by  interminable 
speeches  introduced  to  show  the  pathos  of  a  situation.  The 
usual  defects  of  the  sixteenth  century  are  evident:  turgid 
rhetoric,  artificial  imagery  from  the  classics,  excessive  use  of 
monologues,  the  banal  chorus,  prophetic  dream,  messenger, 
confidants.  On  the  other  hand  these  defects  are  less  evident 
than  in  many  contemporary  pieces.  There  is  real  feeling 
in  the  first  three  acts,  where  the  appeal  is  purely  emotional 
and  the  situation  suggests  Andromaque.  The  introduction  of 
the  children  and  the  brutal  language  of  Seuere  and  the  execu- 
tioner lend  an  unusual  realism.  Compared  with  other  six- 
teenth century  plays,  there  is  a  considerable  amount  of  action, 
if  less  than  M.  Faguet  would  have  us  believe.24  The  author 
has  not  felt  bound  by  the  unities,  for  not  only  are  there  sev- 
eral places  represented  and  more  than  two  nights,  but  the 
story  is  acted  almost  from  the  beginning,  contrary  to  the 
usage  of  his  contemporaries.  In  short,  by  his  neglect  of  cer- 
tain   artistic    standards,   the   crudity   of   his   language,   the 

24  Cf.  his  criticism  of  this  play  in  the  TragMie  francaise  au  XVI. 
sitcle,  pp.  369-373. 


9]  A   CLASSICAL   FRENCH    TRAGEDY  167 

naivete  with  which  he  follows  his  source,  Eouillet  shows  that 
he  has  preserved  certain  characteristics  of  the  medieval  mys- 
teries in  spite  of  his  imitation  of  Seneca  and  his  Greek  pre- 
decessors. 

Mareschal  is  allowed  by  his  seventeenth  century  idea  of 
imitation  to  treat  history  with  greater  freedom.  His  regard 
for  the  bienseances  and  his  inartistic  desire  to  reward  virtue 
make  him  provide  the  heroine,  Matilde,  with  a  third  husband 
and  prevent  her  being  dishonored  by  the  second.  He  seeks 
to  bring  his  persons  into  conflict  with  each  other  and,  as  far 
as  possible,  to  unite  the  whole  play  by  a  central  struggle  in 
the  soul  of  the  leading  character.  As  his  conception  of  the 
heroine  prevents  his  allowing  her  the  hesitation  necessary  to 
a  moral  combat,  she  yields  the  center  of  the  stage  to  Charles, 
who  is  introduced  in  the  second  act  and  has  the  play  named 
after  him.  To  make  his  problem  more  difficult,  the  guilty 
man  becomes  his  son  and  a  new  character  is  introduced  to 
plead  for  the  tatter's  pardon. 

The  exposition  of  the  play  is  excellent.  No  time  is  wasted 
on  the  discussion  of  previous  events;  the  chief  scenes  pass 
between  persons  vitally  concerned  in  what  is  taking  place. 
Rodolphe,  Governor  of  Maastricht,  sends  his  subordinates, 
Frederic  and  Ferdinand,  to  obtain  a  confession  of  guilt  from 
Albert,  while  he  remains  with  Matilde,  the  latter's  wife,  and 
seeks  to  convince  her  that  her  husband  has  sought  to  betray 
the  city  to  the  French  king.  When  she  tries  to  defend  him, 
Rodolfe  shows  her  that  she  has  no  proof  of  his  innocence  and 
tells  her  the  only  way  in  which  she  can  save  his  life.  Matilde 
rejects  his  proposition  with  indignation.  Both  Albert  and 
herself  will  die  rather  than  sacrifice  her  honor.  Rodolfe  shows 
her  into  the  next  room  for  a  last  interview  with  her  husband. 

This  exit  makes  possible  a  thoroughly  dramatic  situation, 
for  Ferdinand,  returning  from  an  interview  with  Albert,  comes 
to  speak  to  Dionee,  Matilde's  suivante,  of  Albert's  innocence 
and  his  own  love  for  Matilde.  He  is  surprised  not  to  find 
the  latter  in  the  room  where  he  had  left  her  pleading  for  her 


168  LANCASTER  [10 

husband.     Told  that  she  is  in  the  next  room  with  Albert, 
Ferdinand  replies  that  he  has  just  left  the  latter  in  prison. 

"Albert  n'est   point   sorti;    que   mon  coeur  est  bless6! 
Et  Frederic  luy-meme  avec  luy  m'a  laisse\ 
Ah !  ce  rapport  est  faux ;  il  m'instruit,  et  me  trouble, 
Dionee,  on  nous  trompe;  et  ma  crainte  redouble. 
On  vient:   forcons  la  chambre;  allons;  suy  ma  fureur." 

The  audience,  led  to  believe  that  Matilde  had  gone  to  see 
her  husband,  suffers  the  same  horrible  suspense  as  Ferdinand 
and  is  not  relieved  by  the  following  scene,  in  which  Eodolfe 
is  upbraided,  by  his  mother,  Fredegonde,  for  his  treatment  of 
Matilde,  and  is  threatened  with  the  approaching  arrival  of 
Charles  the  Bold.  We  learn  from  Frederic,  however,  that 
Charles  is  coming  because  he  is  afraid  that  Albert's  treachery 
may  endanger  Eodolfe  and  we  also  learn  the  truth  about  the 
latter's  interview  with  Matilde.  He  tells  Frederic  that  his 
purpose  has  been  thwarted  by  Matilde's  fainting  and  the 
entrance  of  her  mother.  The  women  believe,  however,  that 
he  has  been  successful  and  Matilde  is  now  engaged  in  rousing 
the  town  against  her  supposed  assailant.  Frederic,  acting 
here  as  elsewhere  the  part  of  Iago  or  Narcisse,  seizes  the  occa- 
sion to  persuade  Eodolfe  to  have  Albert  executed  in  order  that 
the  death  of  her  husband,  rather  than  the  loss  of  her  honor, 
may  seem  to  be  the  cause  of  Matilde's  lament. 

In  the  first  scene  of  the  second  act  we  learn  that  Albert  is 
innocent  and  that  the  letter,  supposedly  sent  by  him  to  Louis 
XI,  was  a  forgery.  The  main  struggle  of  the  play  now  begins, 
when  Matilde  enters  with  Charles,  urging  him  eloquently  to 
forget  his  love  for  Eodolfe  and  remember  only  his  duty  to  the 
oppressed. 

"  Vos  Etats,  sa  valeur,  sa  faveur,  vostre  foy, 
Tout  parle  enfin  pour  luy;  le  Ciel  parle  pour  moy." 

Charles  debates,  with  preciosite  to  our  thinking,  probably 
not  to  that  of  the  seventeenth  century.  He  has  put  Rodolfe's 
welfare  before  the  interests  of  state  that  held  him  at  Liege, 


11]  A  CLASSICAL  FRENCH  TRAGEDY  169 

only  to  find  him  accused  of  a  crime.  Eodolfe  tries  to  explain 
that  Matilde  fainted  because  of  the  news  of  her  husband's 
execution,  an  event  that  is  in  reality  now  made  known  to  her 
for  the  first  time,  as  she  plainly  3hows  by  the  execrations  she 
hurls  at  Eodolfe.  Charles  is  shocked  by  the  unjust  and  fool- 
ish haste  of  this  execution,  which  prevents  the  discovery  of 
possible  accomplices.  Eodolfe's  attempted  explanations  only 
succeed  in  convincing  Charles  of  his  guilt  and  bringing  about 
his  arrest.  A  concluding  tirade  develops  Charles's  victory 
over  his  love  for  Eodolfe. 

But  this  struggle  is  renewed  in  the  third  act  by  the  plead- 
ing of  Fredegonde  and  Matilde.  Charles,  apparently  unable 
to  decide  between  them,  declares  that  Eodolfe  must  imme- 
diately marry  Matilde  and  bestow  his  possessions  upon  her. 
Neither  Matilde's  horror  at  this  proposition  nor  Ferdinand's 
arguments  turn  Charles  from  his  decision.  Eodolfe  is  highly 
pleased.  The  ceremony  is  to  be  followed  by  a  "  tragedie  "  in 
which  he  and  an  unknown  person  are  to  take  part.  This 
anachronism,  by  which  the  court  amusements  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  are  put  back  into  the  fifteenth,  may  be  par- 
doned by  virtue  of  the  dramatic  interest  it  adds  to  the  denoue- 
ment, which  is  now  eagerly  expected. 

The  fourth  act  tells  us  that  one  of  Eodolfe's  hirelings  has 
committed  suicide  after  confessing  the  whole  plot  against 
Albert  and  Matilde,  that  the  latter's  marriage  to  Eodolfe  has 
been  celebrated,  that  the  play  is  being  performed.  The  ac- 
tion is  behind  the  scenes  in  accordance  with  classic  usage. 
The  recital  is  made  by  Dionee  to  Ferdinand,  Matilde's  lover. 

"On  ouure  le  Theatre 
On  void  sur  le  deuant  un  grand  tapis  s'abbattre ; 
De  flambeaux  esclairans  lea  deux  cotez  bordez; 
Deux  hommes  au  milieu;  dont  l'un,  les  yeux  bandez, 
Teste  nue,  a  genoux,  le  col  sous  une  lame, 
Alloit  dans  un  moment  rendre  le  sang  et  l'ame: 
L' autre  pour  un  tel  coup  tirant  le  coutelas 
N'attend  que  le  sinal,  que  Charles  ne  fait  pas."  * 

*iv,  3. 


170  "  LANCASTER  [12 

She  adds  that  Charles  has  left  the  hall  without  giving  the 
signal  that  will  decide  Rodolfe's  fate. 

As  in  Horace,  the  recital  of  an  important  event,  taking  place 
behind  the  scenes,  is  made  dramatic  by  its  division  among  sev- 
eral persons,  arranged  so  as  to  form  a  climax  according  to 
the  amount  of  interest  they  have  in  the  result.  After  Dionee's 
discourse,  Matilde  comes  to  tell  us  that  the  decision  is  sus- 
pended while  Fredegonde  pleads  for  Eodolfe.  Then  the  fifth 
act  begins  with  the  entrance  of  Fredegonde  and  Charles. 
Despite  her  plea,  he  sends  an  attendant  to  order  the  execu- 
tion, whereupon  she  tells  him  that  Eodolfe  is  his  son  by  her 
sister  and  proves  her  statement  by  two  notes  left  by  the  mother 
at  her  death.  She  has  brought  up  Eodolfe  as  her  own  son. 
Charles  is  convinced,  but  decides  not  to  alter  his  decision. 
Even  Matilde  now  ceases  to  demand  that  Eodolfe  be  put  to 
death,  but  Charles  assures  her  that  only  so  can  justice  be  done. 
His  victory  over  his  emotions  is  considerably  elaborated. 
Finally  a  captain  brings  the  news  of  the  execution.  As 
Rodolfe  swore  before  his  death  that  he  had  not  succeeded  in 
his  attempt  to  ravish  Matilde,  there  seems  nothing  to  prevent 
her  marriage  to  Ferdinand.  Left  alone,  Charles,  still  the  cen- 
tral figure  of  the  play,  laments  the  necessity  that  had  forced 
him  to  this  sentence : 

"  0  justice !  6  destin !  que  vostre  ordre  est  seuere ! 
Perdre  un  Fils!  vos  decrets  me  porter  a  ce  poinct! 
Ciel!  ie  l'ay  fait;  j'en  pleure,  et  ne  m'en  repens  point." 

This  analysis  shows  how  a  classic  dramatist  handled  a  sub- 
ject from  what  he  considered  modern  history.  The  theme  is 
one  that  appeals  to  a  romanticist:  love,  murder,  and  retribu- 
tion, a  wife  called  upon  to  sacrifice  her  honor  to  save  her  hus- 
band's life,  a  professional  villain  who  makes  another  of  his 
master,  the  illegitimate  son  of  a  prince,  recognized  when  the 
latter  is  about  to  put  him  to  death ;  all  in  the  late  fifteenth 
century  at  the  court  of  the  last  of  the  Dukes  of  Burgundy.  But 
Mareschal  is  not  turned  from  the  classic  principles  of  his 


13]  A  CLASSICAL  FRENCH  TRAGEDY  171 

time.  Like  Corneille  he  chooses  a  complex  and  unusual  sub- 
ject and  alters  it  to  suit  himself,  selects  an  Auguste  for  his 
protagonist,  seeks  to  rouse  admiration  rather  than  pity.  His 
characters  debate  with  themselves  and  with  one  another,  adorn- 
ing their  discourse  with  rhetorical  periods,  sententious  lines, 
and  subtle  antitheses. 

He  is  classic  in  the  rapidity  of  the  action  and  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  unities.  By  keeping  Albert  off  the  stage  26  and 
crowding  into  one  act  the  events  that  preceded  Charles's 
arrival,  the  author  brings  us  quickly  to  the  principal  theme 
of  the  play,  the  justice  of  the  Duke.  There  is  a  slight  viola- 
tion of  the  unity  of  action  in  the  unnecessary  sub-plot  con- 
cerned wth  Ferdinand's  love  for  Matilde.  The  fact  that 
Eodolfe  turns  out  to  be  Charles's  son  has  no  effect  upon  the 
action  and  consequently  does  not  act  as  a  deus  ex  machina; 
it  helps  to  bring  out  clearly  Charles's  love  of  justice.  The 
compression  of  the  events  into  a  single  day  suits  Charles's 
impetuosity.  The  single  place  has  the  advantages  and  disad- 
vantages of  similar  arrangements  in  other  classic  plays.  The 
scene  of  the  play  within  the  play,  the  sentence  suspended  while 
the  prisoner  waits  with  his  head  on  the  block,  would  have 
tempted  a  romantic  dramatist,  but  Mareschal  leaves  it  in  the 
wings,  and  shows  us  instead  the  effect  of  the  impending  execu- 
tion upon  Matilde,  Fredegonde,  and  Charles. 

His  treatment  of  local  color  and  character  is  as  fully 
classic.  His  people,  indeed,  unlike  Rouillet's,  bear  names  ap- 
propriate to  the  time  and  place  in  which  they  lived,  Matilde, 
Ferdinand,  Frederic,  Leopold,  etc.  Mention  is  made  of  Louis 
XI,  of  the  siege  of  Liege,  of  Maastricht.  We  see  a  feudal 
system  in  operation  with  the  power  of  life  and  death  in  the 
hands,  first  of  Charles,  then  of  his  subordinate.  There  is 
talk  of  war  and  tents.  But  there  is  little  concrete  and  detailed 
local  color  except,  perhaps,  in  the  description  of  the  "  tra- 

'"For  a  different  treatment  of  a  similar  subject,  cf.  Maeterlinck's 
Monna  Vanna. 


172  LANCASTER  [14 

gedie,"  which  is  clearly  anachronistic.  Mareschal  seeks  only 
the  general  characteristics  of  the  times  and  is  more  interested 
in  the  ideas  and  sentiments  of  his  characters  than  in  their 
physical  surroundings. 

His  men  and  women  illustrate  general  types.  Matilde  is 
brave,  virtuous,  vindictive,  and  cold;  she  shows  as  little  hesi- 
tation in  sacrificing  her  husband's  life  to  her  own  virtue  as  she 
does  in  demanding  the  death  of  his  murderer.  Frederic  is  an 
accomplished  villain,  who  arranges  Eodolfe's  crimes  in  their 
smallest  details  and  inspires  him  with  courage  for  their  execu- 
tion. Rodolfe  is  the  weak  criminal,  ruled  by  his  passions  and 
the  suggestions  of  his  intimates,  without  resources  when  left 
alone  and  without  remorse  until  he  is  about  to  die.  Ferdi- 
nand, the  self-sacrificing  lover,  serves  to  comfort  the  heroine 
at  the  end  of  the  play,  as  he  had  helped  to  keep  the  audience 
informed  of  various  happenings  during  its  progress. 

But  we  are  mainly  interested  in  Charles,  the  only  his- 
torical person  of  the  tragedy.  It  seems  to  me  that  Mareschal 
has  succeeded  in  making  an  accurate  picture  of  his  hero, 
apart  from  his  giving  him  an  illegitimate  son.  Charles 
was  noted  for  his  continence,  although  he  had  been  a 
reluctant  bridegroom,  and  is  said  to  have  lived  "  plus  chaste- 
ment  que  communement  les  princes  ne  font."  27  The  picture, 
too,  is  incomplete,  for  Mareschal  does  not  show  Charles  taking 
vengeance  on  Liege,  contending  with  Louis,  or  attacking  the 
Swiss.  We  think  of  him  as  the  rash,  obstinate,  and  blood- 
thirsty fighter  because  we  remember  him  chiefly  from  these 
incidents,  but  there  was  another  side  to  him,  historically  well 
attested,  which  we  are  apt  to  forget  and  which  Mareschal  has 
well  described. 

Charles  "  aimoit  fort  ses  serviteurs,"  "  aimoit  honneur  et 
craignoit  Dieu."  28  Comines  29  says  that  he  was  open  to  every 
appeal.     He  was  rigorously  just  in  his  judgments,  suppressed 

21  Chastellain,  Pantheon  litt&raire,  p.  509;  Kirk,  op.  cit.,  I,   113. 
M  Chastellain,  loc.  cit.  a  n,  66. 


15]  A    CLASSICAL   FRENCH    TRAGEDY    .  173 

crime  with  vigor,  and  made  no  exception  of  the  nobility.  He 
was  "  sage  et  descret  de  son  parler,  orne  et  compasse  en  ses 
raisons  .  .  .  parloit  de  grand  sens  .  .  .  dur  en  opinion,  mais 
preud'homme  et  juste,  en  conseil  estoit  agu,  subtil."  30  Ac- 
cording to  Mareschal,  Charles  is  an  excellent  judge,  who  hears 
Matilde's  appeal  and  goes  quickly  to  business,  is  not  deceived 
by  Rodolfe's  efforts  to  clear  himself,  realizes  the  state's  need 
of  discovering  a  criminal's  accomplices.  He  is  a  keen  in- 
vestigator and  knows  when  to  be  silent.  He  does  not  allow  his 
love  for  Eodolfe  to  prevail  over  his  sense  of  justice,  basing  his 
judgment  on  the  need  of  example  and  reparation  and,  per- 
haps, influenced  by  Matilde's  appeal  to  his  religious  ideas. 
Mareschal  also  shows  Charles's  impetuosity  by  his  hurrying 
away  from  the  siege  of  Liege  to  arrive  almost  unannounced  at 
Maastricht  and  by  the  speed  with  which  he  proceeds  to  the  trial 
and  the  execution  of  the  sentence.  He  brings  out  his  posses- 
sion of  absolute  power,  his  thorough  acceptance  of  feudalism, 
his  desire  for  fame.31  Finally  there  is  a  certain  hardness, 
a  thorough  self-confidence,  a  reserve,  a  melancholy  about 
Charles  that  are  admirably  brought  out  in  the  play.  On  the 
whole,  the  portrayal  is  a  fine  example  of  historical  characteri- 
zation as  conceived  by  a  classical  dramatist. 

From  the  foregoing  considerations  it  is  clear  that  the  mod- 
ernity of  the  subject  has  little  effect  upon  the  classic  manner. 
For  his  chief  appeal  the  writer  depends  on  the  admiration 
roused  by  a  noble  action  rather  than  on  the  pity  caused  by 
suffering.  History  is  followed  only  far  enough  to  make  the 
audience  accept  the  narrative  as  plausible.  The  characteriza- 
tion is  general ;  in  the  case  of  Charles,  largely  historical.  The 
local  color  is  that  which  Corneille  put  into  his  Roman  plays,  a 
few  names  and  facts  known  to  all,  with  few  concrete  details 
to  rouse  the  imagination  or  distract  the  attention  from  the 
psychological  study.     The  unities  are  preserved.     Important 

"  Kirk,  op.  cit.,  I,  462. 
81  III,  2 ;  v,  3. 


174  LANCASTER  [16 

events  take  place  behind  the  scenes,  while  their  effect  upon 
the  minds  of  the  characters  is  carefully  shown.  A  classic 
dramatist  does  not  become  a  romanticist  by  the  choice  of  a 
modern  subject.  The  two  conceptions  of  the  drama  are  so 
profoundly  different  that  the  plays  remain  essentially  unlike 
even  when  one  dramatist  comes  into  the  historical  period 
supposedly  reserved  to  the  other. 


FRENCH  CLASSICAL  DRAMA  AND  THE  COMEDIE 
LARMOYANTE 


BY 

F.  M.  Warren 


The  notions  which  obtain  in  the  serious  comedy  of  France, 
the  comedie  larmoyante,  during  the  second  quarter  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  are  commonly  derived  from  the  moralists 
of  the  closing  years  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  from 
ideas  which  were  current  on  the  English  stage  of  that  period. 
Apparently  no  attempt  has  been  made  to  connect  these 
notions  with  the  conceptions  and  methods  of  French  classical 
drama.  Yet  the  ordinary  trend  of  literary  criticism  would 
naturally  lead  to  such  an  attempt.  Dramatic  composition  is 
peculiarly  amenable  to  tradition.  The  principles  of  the  art 
are  fairly  permanent.  The  theatre  of  one  generation  invari- 
ably contains  the  germs  of  the  theatre  which  follows.  Why 
then  should  the  comedie  larmoyante  prove  an  exception,  and 
alone  of  all  the  forms  of  comedy  or  tragedy  reject  its  an- 
cestral inheritance  ?  Leaving  England  aside  for  the  moment, 
we  may  admit  that  the  ethics  of  La  Rochefoucauld,  La  Fon- 
taine, Boileau  and  La  Bruyere  prompt  the  virtuous  senti- 
ments of  Destouches  and  La  Chaussee.  Certain  apothegms 
of  these  older  writers  may  be  even  regarded  as  the  text  for 
the  exegesis  of  the  younger.  The  familiar  maxim  of  La 
Rochefoucauld :  "Le  bon  naturel,  qui  se  vante  d'etre  si  sensible, 
est  souvent  etouffe  par  le  moindre  interet "  (Maxime  275), 
and  its  corrective  with  La  Bruyere :  "  II  y  a  de  certains  grands 
sentiments,  de  certaines  .actions  nobles  et  elevees,  que  nous 
devons  moins  a  la  force  de  notre  esprit  qu'a  la  bonte  de  notre 
naturel "  ("  Du  Cceur,"  79),  contain  the  essence  of  Le  Glori- 
eux  or  Le  Prejuge  a  la  Mode.  The  innate  goodness  of 
1]  175 


176  WARREN  [2 

human  nature,  the  joy  which  a  "  sensible  "  heart  bestowed  on 
its  lucky  possessor,  may  have  been  heresy  and  folly  to  the 
rank  and  file  of  Moliere's  contemporaries,  but  they  never- 
theless formed  the  delight  of  some  select  souls  of  his  day. 

However,  neither  La  Rochefoucauld  nor  La  Bruyere  were 
playwrights,  and  of  the  quartet  La  Fontaine  alone  ventured 
to  try  his  hand  at  dramatic  composition.  So  that  in  order 
to  give  the  comedie  larmoyante  a  rational  place  in  the  history 
of  the  French  theatre,  we  must  find  its  forerunners  in  plays 
which  preceded  it.  There  must  be  ideas,  episodes,  perhaps 
plots — the  last  is  surely  not  necessary — in  the  stage  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  which  resemble  the  ideas  and  incidents 
of  the  serious  comedy  of  the  eighteenth. 

At  first  glance  this  resemblance  does  not  appear.  The  strik- 
ing feature  in  Destouches,  who  anticipates  and  explains  La 
Chaussee,1  and  therefore  must  himself  be  explained,  is  his 
character  portraits,  a  trait  which  he  borrowed  from  La 
Bruyere.  His  fondness  for  moral  teaching  may  be  attributed 
quite  as  plausibly  to  the  example  of  Boileau  and  La  Fontaine. 
It  is  also  probable  that  Telemachus  was  a  model  for  his 
heroes  and  heroines.  For  Fenelon  has  endowed  this  off- 
spring of  his  invention  with  those  qualities  of  mind  and 
heart  that  Destouches  and  La  Chaussee  never  tire  of  praising. 
Telemachus  is  "  sensible."  He  is  emotional  even  to  tears. 
His  belief  in  the  inherent  goodness  of  human  nature  is  based 
on  bedrock.  And  the  mere  sight  of  the  father  whom  he  does 
not  know  is  enough  to  start  in  him  the  flow  of  natural 
affection.2     What    further    virtues    can    Destouches — or    La 

1 G.  Lanson,  Nivelle  de  la  Chamsee  et  la  Comedie  larmoyante, 
2nd  ed'n.,  pp.   43-45. 

2T6l€maque,  d'un  naturel  vif  et  sensible  (T6Umaque,  vm). — Lais- 
sez-moi  en  ce  moment  pleurer  mon  pere  (do.  i). — II  verse  un  torrent 
de  larmes  (do.  vn). — II  s'afflige  sans  savoir  pourquoi;  les  larme? 
coulent  de  ses  yeux,  et  rien  ne  lui  est  si  doux  que  de  pleurer  (do. 
xxvi ) . — T6l6maque  .  .  .  se  rGjouissait  qu'il  y  eut  encore  au  monde 
un  peuple  qui,  suivant  la  droite  nature,  fat  si  sage  et  si  heureux 


3]  CLASSICAL    DRAMA   AND   COMEDIE    LARMOYANTE  177 

Chaussec — add?  Telemaque  was  published  in  1699.  U Ob- 
stacle imprevu,  where  Destouches  appeals  for  the  first  time  to 
the  voice  of  nature,  where  he  makes  his  first  attempt  to 
heighten  the  spectator's  interest  by  the  sight  of  a  father  in 
disguise,3  and  where  novelistic  incidents  first  become  notice- 
able, is  of  1717.4 

This  same  year,  1717,  Destouches  went  to  England.  He 
staid  there  six  years.  It  is  generally  supposed  that  acquaint- 
ance with  the  English  stage  increased  his  liking  for  pathetic 
scenes  and  moral  exhortations.  But  when  a  specific  instance 
of  such  an  influence  is  sought  for  one  finds  himself  in  a  quan- 
dary. The  comedies  of  Cibber,  Mrs.  Centlivre  and  Steele,  the 
dramatists  in  vogue  during  Destouches'  residence  in  London, 
resemble  the  drame  bourgeois  but  remotely.  Steele's  Con- 
scious Lovers,  which  was  acted  in  November,  1722,  could 
alone  be  cited  as  fostering  a  taste  for  the  pathetic  and 
romanesque.  This  play  appeared  only  on  the  eve  of  Destou- 
ches' return  home,  and  its  peculiar  characteristics  may  in 
fact  have  been  due  to  the  unrecorded  instigation  of  the 
French  playwright,  a  conjecture  which  is  surely  more  probable 
than  the  other,  that  Steele  swayed  Destouches.5 

Nor  did  the  latter,  when  again  in  France,  in  1723,  imme- 
diately engage  in  further  dramatic  production.  Several 
years  slipped  by  before  his  Philosophe  marie  (1727)  was 
staged.     And  here  there  is  nothing  new.     The  old  effects  of 

tout  ensemble  ( do.  viii  ) . — Je  sens  que  mon  coeur  s'interesse  pour  cet 
homme,  sans  savoir  pourquoi  .  .  .  .  je  sentais  bien  dans  cet  in- 
connu  je  ne  sais  quoi  qui  m'attirait  ;1  ltd  et  qui  remuait  toutes  mes 
entrailles    (do.  xxiv). 

3  W.  T.  Peirce,  The  Bourgeois  from  Moliere  to  Beaumarchais, 
Columbus,   1907    (Johns  Hopkins  dissertation),  p.  58. 

*  Tears  had  already  flowed  in  L'Ingrat  (1712),  and  Le  Me"disant 
(1715).  They  are  shed  again  in  L'Obstaele  impre'vu.  With  this 
play  melodrama  really  begins. 

5  See  The  Conscious  Lovers,  Act  I,  Sc.  2  (family  captured  on  the 
high  seas,  daughter  saved  unknown  to  father),  Act  v,  Sc.  3  (recog- 
nition scene,  pathos,  tears). 

12 


178  WARREN  [4 

L'Obstaclc  imprevu  are  simply  revived  and  developed.  A 
disguise  again  (of  the  unsuccessful  lover,  not  the  father), 
pathos  and  tears,  and  a  moral  lesson  succinctly  preached. 
But  these  features  of  the  future  comedie  larmoyante  now 
form  scenes  in  a  plot  which  was  made  fairly  famous  by 
later  use,  the  idea  of  the  husband  ashamed  of  his  love  for 
the  wife  because  the  decree  of  fashion  was  against  it.  This 
notion  had  come  forward  in  Destouches'  first  comedy,  Le 
Curieux  impertinent  (1710),  and,  before  Destouches,  in  Dan- 
court's  Foire  de  Besons*  (1695).  Yet  its  repetition  in  Le 
Philosophe  marie  must  have  seemed  a  novelty  to  the  public, 
for  Destouches  felt  himself  obliged  to  reply  to  the  criticisms 
aimed  at  him  with  the  one-act  comedy  of  UEnvieux,  much 
as  Moliere  had  defended  himself  under  similar  circumstances. 
In  UEnvieux  the  various  questions  raised  by  Le  Philosophe 
marie  are  passed  in  review,  such  as  the  husband's  attitude 
towards  the  wife,  the  propriety  of  tears  in  a  comedy,  the 
advantages  of  a  simple  style  and  plot  and  the  appropriate- 
ness of  moral  instruction  on  the  stage.7 

So  it  is  in  Le  Philosophe  marie  of  1727,  and  not  in  Le 
Glorieux  of  1732,  that  Destouches  is  confessedly  conscious 
of  his  new  departure.  It  is  with  this  play,  therefore,  that 
the  analysis  of  the  elements  which  go  to  make  up  the 
comedie  larmoyante  should  stop.  What  were  these  elements? 
"Were  they  purely  narrative,  disquisitional,  coming  from 
essays,  maxims,  satires,  novels  only?  The  confidence  which 
Destouches  showed  in  his  apology  of  UEnvieux  would  argue 
that  they  were  not.  Had  he  doubted  the  strength  of  his 
case  as  a  dramatic  writer,  had  he  felt  himself  unsupported 
by  the  traditions  of  the  French  theatre,  he  would  have  be- 
trayed some  slight  uneasiness  at  least  when  he  summoned 
Molicre's  comedies  of  character  to  give  their  evidence  in  his 

e  Peirce,  op.  cit.,  p.  46. 

''UEnvieux,  Sc.  10,  12,  14. — The  apologist  suggests  Le  Mari 
horteux  de  Vetre  as  a  better  title  for  the  original  play. 


5]  CLASSICAL    DRAMA    AND   COMEDIE    LARMOYANTE  179 

favor  (Sc.  14).  Assured  then  by  his  bearing  we  should 
turn  back  to  the  stage  of  the  seventeenth  century,  with  the 
firm  expectation  of  finding  in  its  productions  more  than 
mere  traces  of  these  same  novelistic  ideas.  And  if  we  find 
them  there  to  any  marked  degree,  we  would  be  in  a  position 
to  object  to  the  accepted  verdict,  that  Destouches  was  the 
first  who  shaped  them  to  dramatic  ends. 

In  such  a  review  Corneille  naturally  leads,  and  so  far  as 
his  comedies  are  concerned  we  do  not  discover  any  especial 
resemblance  to  Destouches.  Le  Menteur  is  a  character  play, 
but  it  is  not  at  all  pathetic.  Corneille's  tragedies  are  also 
foreign  to  the  conception  of  the  comedie  larmoyante,  with 
one  important  exception,  Heraclius.  The  performance  of 
He  radius,  in  1647,  had  been  attended  by  a  moderate  amount 
of  success.  Its  production  by  Moliere's  company  later  did 
not,  however,  meet  with  favor.  When  it  was  revived  again, 
many  years  afterwards,  in  1724,  Destouches  had  just  returned 
from  England,  and  the  fortunes  of  the  new  comedy  were 
hanging  in  the  balance.  But  this  time  Heraclius  was  well 
liked.  Public  taste  had  evidently  changed.  Heraclius  suited 
the  change,  and  attracted  sufficient  notice  to  become  the 
subject  of  a  literary  controversy.8  Its  romanesque  plot  and 
melodramatic  notions,  which  may  have  harmed  it  under  Louis 
XIV,  helped  it  under  his  successor. 

For  its  hero,  Heraclius,  is  a  disguised  character.  Phocas 
believes  him  to  be  his  son,  while  in  reality  he  is  the  son  of 
Maurice,  who  had  been  put  to  death  by  Phocas.  As  a  further 
complication,  Phocas'  Own  son,  Martian,  passes  as  the  son  of 
a  governess.  Phocas'  desire  to  have  Heraclius  marry  Pul- 
cheria,  who  is  Maurice's  daughter  and  therefore  Heraclius' 
sister,  forces  the  governess  to  acquaint  Heraclius  with  the 
facts  of  his  birth.  The  other  characters  of  the  play  remain 
unenlightened  still,  with  the  result  that  this  misunderstanding 

■  Marty-Laveaux  edition  of  Corneille    ("Les  Grands  Ecrivains"), 
v,  p.  118. 


180  WARREN  [6 

lasts  up  to  the  solution,  and  sustains  the  action.  When  all 
are  finally  informed  of  their  actual  parentage,  Martian,  who 
had  unwittingly  joined  in  a  conspiracy  to  kill  Phocas,  his 
father,  claims  that  had  he  proceeded  to  carry  out  his  purpose 
"  nature  "  would  have  stayed  his  hand.9  But  Phocas  could 
not  rightly  interpret  this  instinctive  feeling  because  of  his 
vices.  After  much  wavering  he  thinks  that  nature  indicates 
Heraclius  as  his  son.10  The  goodness  of  Heraclius  inclines 
him  towards  the  same  mistaken  conclusion.  Phocas'  kindness 
to  him  makes  him  uncertain  as  to  the  promptings  of  nature's 
voice.11  Yet  when  Phocas  is  punished  at  the  end,  it  is 
Martian's  heart  and  not  Heraclius',  which  tends  towards 
a  silent  protest.12 

Disguised  relationships,  appeals  to  nature  to  decide  which 
is  the  father,  which  the  son,  these  are  among  the  chosen 
devices  of  the  comedie  larmoyante.  And  they  make  the  whole 
interest  of  Heraclius.  Given  again  to  the  stage  at  the  mo- 
ment when  the  new  comedy  was  forming,  with  the  authority 
of  the  great  Corneille  back  of  them,  we  cannot  possibly  pre- 
sume that  they  remained  without  any  influence  on  the  play- 
wrights of  1724.  Though  Destouches  does  not  mention 
Heraclius,  we  must  suppose,  with  his  great  passion  for  the 
theater,  that  he  is  to  be  counted  among  the  spectators  who 
applauded  Martian's  sentiments.  Of  the  literary  controversy 
which  the  tragedy  excited  he  surely  was  cognizant. 

Other  dramatists  of  Corneille's  day,  following  in  his  foot- 

*       Et  lorsque  contre  vous  il  m'a  fait  entreprendre. 
La  nature  en  secret  aurait  su  m'eri  d<?fendre. 

1343,  1344. 
10       Car  enfin  c'est  vers  toi  que  penche  la  nature.     1600. 

Cf.  1361,  1367,  1368,  1375,  1377. 
"      Des  deux  cotes  en  vain  j'ecoute  la  nature.     1592. 


Et  le   sang,   par  un   double  et  secret  artifice, 

Parle  en  vous  pour  Phocas,  comme  en  lui  pour  Maurice. 

1599,  1600. 
1  Act  v,  Sc.  7. 


7]  CLASSICAL   DRAMA   AND   COMEDIE   LARMOYANTE  181 

steps  perhaps,  finding  inspiration  as  he  probably  had  done 
in  the  fashionable  novels  of  the  time,  where  nearly  all  the 
characters  appeared  in  disguise,  used  romanesque  notions  here 
and  there  in  their  writings.  Thomas  Corneille's  first  tragedy, 
Timocrate  (1656),  is  one  example  of  this  kind,  nor  does 
it  stand  alone  among  his  works.  Quinault's  plays,  Le  Feint 
Alcibiade,  Agrippa,  Astarte,  all  delight  in  disguises.  In 
Agrippa  (1660)  the  solution  is  reached  by  the  appeal  to 
natural  instinct,  or,  as  Quinault  terms  it  in  one  scene,  "la 
voix  du  sang." 13  Whether  there  is  any  direct  connection 
between  these  playwrights  and  Destouches,  however,  is 
uncertain. 

But  with  Eacine  the  case  is  different.  After  the  public 
performance  of  Athalie,  in  1716,  his  fame  rivalled  Corneille's 
or  even  exceeded  it.  Yet  how  could  Eacine  be  suspected  of 
cherishing  any  sympathy  for  the  romanesque?  He  is  so 
clear,  so  direct.  It  is  true  he  was  entering  on  his  literary 
career  at  the  moment  when  the  faculty  of  being  "  sensible  " 
was  beginning  to  be  valued  by  Parisian  society.  He  could 
not  wholly  resist  fashion.  So  Hermione  is  "  sensible/'  and 
Hippolytus  too.14  Britannicus  comforts  Agrippina  with  the 
words,  "  nos  malheurs  trouvent  des  cceurs  sensibles." 15  In 
Iphigenie  the  voice  of  nature  is  raised  in  protest  against  the 
sacrifice  of  a  daughter.16  And  La  Thebaide,  Eacine's  first 
tragedy,  repeats  with  emphasis  this  characteristic  of  the 
comedie  larmoyante.17  That  this  very  insistence  of  La  The- 
baide may  have  militated  against  its  favorable  reception  by 
Eacine's  contemporaries  is  possible,  but  with  the  generation 
which  had  been  stirred  by  the  story  of  Telemachus  we  may 
assume  that  it  counted  for  it.  La  Thebaide  underwent  a  suc- 
cessful revival  in  1721,  and  through  its  handling  of  this 
feature  of  sentimental  comedy  lent  the  weight  of  Eacine's 

a Agrippa,  Act  v,  Sc.  3. — Cf.  in  Act  v,  Sc.  4,  the  line: 
Elle  impute  a  Pamour  ce  que  fait  la  nature. 
"  Andromaque,  472;   Phddre,   1203. 
"  Britannicus,  896.  ie281,  282. 

"267,  515,  807,  808,  983,  etc. 


182  WARREN  [8 

name  also  to  the  idea  of  the  new  theatre  in  the  hours  of  its 
conception. 

Corneille,  then,  undoubtedly  fostered  the  notions  of  the 
comedie  larmoyante.  Eacine  at  least  did  not  oppose  them. 
There  remains  a  third,  and  greater  than  they.  Of  Moliere 
Destouches  boasts  himself  a  disciple.18  From  him  he  not 
only  drew  inspiration,  but  also  the  actual  outline  of  certain 
episodes  and  plots,  thoroughly  assimilated  to  be  sure,  so 
that  Destouches  was  practically  unconscious  of  any  plagi- 
arism. For  instance,  Le  Bourgeois  gentilhomme  offers  in 
the  tenth  scene  of  its  third  act  the  pattern  for  the  fifth 
scene  of  the  third  act  of  Le  Curieux  impertinent,  Destouches' 
maiden  effort.  The  fifth  scene  of  the  second  act  of  L'Ingrat 
recalls  the  twelfth  scene  of  the  third  act  of  the  same  master- 
piece, with  the  parts  of  the  sexes  reversed.  Both  L'Ingrat 
and  Le  Medisant  imitate  in  the  female  servant  the  common- 
sense  soubrette  of  Moliere.  Les  Philosophes  amoureux, 
which,  in  1729,  followed  after  Le  Philosophe  marie,  without 
continuing,  however,  the  melodramatic  tendency  of  the  latter, 
paraphrases  a  familiar  line  of  Les  Femmes  savantes.19 
Destouches  surely  knew  his  Moliere  by  heart. 

Out  of  this  intimate  acquaintance  with  Moliere's  intrigues 
and  episodes  developed  a  situation  which  is  of  capital 
importance  in  the  history  of  the  new  comedy.  In  1732 
Destouches  put  Le  Glorieux  on  the  stage.  Le  Glorieux 
inherits  in  a  direct  line  of  succession  the  novelistic  style  and 
methods  of  Le  Philosophe  marie.  It  goes  even  further  than 
its  ancestor.  It  elaborates  the  romanesque  and  makes  it 
an  essential  part  of  the  structure.  And  because  of  the 
prominence  it  gives  to  this  element  Le  Glorieux  is  held  to 
be  a  complete  embryo  of  the  comedie  larmoyante.20  By 
suppressing  Destouches'   study  of  character,   in   reality  the 

"Preface  to  Le  Glorieux;  L'Envieux,  Sc.  14. 

M  Et  pour  1'amour  du  grec  embrassez-vous  tous  deux.     Act  v,  Sc. 
2.     Cf.  Les  Femmes  savantes,  946. 
20  Lanson,  I.  c. 


9]  CLASSICAL    DRAMA   AND   COMEDIE    LARMOYANTE  183 

minor  part  of  Le  Glorieux,  and  by  retaining  his  melodra- 
matic ideas  and  scenes,  in  the  following  year  La  Chaussee 
evolved  from  this  play  La  Fausse  Antipathic.  Consequently 
the  construction  and  determining  incidents  of  Le  Glorieux 
claim  close  scrutiny.  Their  antecedents  are  the  sources  of 
the  comedie  larmoyante.  By  following  them  back  to  their 
origin  the  comedie  larmoyante  receives  a  proper,  historical 
explanation.  It  ceases  to  be  an  outcast,  a  stranger  to  the 
tradition  of  the  French  theatre.  With  the  proofs  of  its 
citizenship  in  hand,  it  can  take  its  legitimate  place  among  its 
fellows,  like  them  a  lawful  offspring  of  the  dramatic  genius 
of  the  French  people. 

Now  Le  Glorieux  in  certain  passages  reminds  one  of  similar 
incidents  in  Moliere's  L'Avare,  and  a  careful  comparison  of 
the  two  comedies  discloses  more  than  one  subtle  correspond- 
ence.21 Indeed  it  is  seen  that  the  novelistic  part  of  Le 
Glorieux,  in  which  lies  its  real  interest,  is  simply  the  restate- 
ment of  the  romanesque  secondary  plot  of  L'Avare.  The 
essential  difference  in  the  action  of  the  two  plays,  by  which 
the  one  remains  a  genuine  comedy  of  character  and  the  other 
becomes  a  comedy  of  manners,  mainly  arises  from  the  fact 
that  Moliere  speedily  returned  to  his  analysis  of  a  miser, 
while  Destouches  subordinated  the  portrayal  of  his  vain- 
glorious hero  to  the  attractions  of  an  adventurous  narrative. 

The  minor  plot  of  L'Avare  is  outlined  in  its  first  scene, 
where  the  miser's  daughter,  Elise,  and  his  domestic,  Valere, 
talk  over  their  love  affair  and  mention  the  circumstances 
which  had  occasioned  it.  Valere  is  of  good  birth,  but  has 
taken  service  with  Harpagon  because  he  wants  to  be  near  his 
mistress,  whose  life  he  had  saved.  The  first  emotion  aroused 
in  Moliere's  audience  was  therefore  caused  by  the  mutual 
affection  of  servant  and  mistress.     The  hope  that  Valere  will 

M  The  relationship  of  Le  Glorieux  to  L'Avare  was  pointed  out 
sometime  since,  in  the  Modern  Language  Notes  of  April,  1900: 
Moliere's  L'Avare  and  le  Drame  bourgeois. 


184  WARREN  [10 

find  his  parents  and  thus  win  Elise's  hand  is  excited  at  once 
in  the  spectator's  mind. 

In  Le  Glorieux  the  parallel  situation  is  spread  out  over 
an  entire  act,  instead  of  being  restricted  to  one  scene.  The 
characters  reappear,  but  with  conditions  reversed.  Valere 
is  now  the  son  of  the  family  and  Lisette  is  the  domestic. 
But  a  series  of  explanations  soon  puts  us  in  possession  of 
the  same  information  which  Moliere  had  offered  in  a  more 
compact  form.  Lisette  is  high-minded,  is  of  good  birth,  is 
beloved  by  Valere,  had  been  his  sister's  school-mate  before 
she  became  her  maid,  and  is  promised  better  days  by  a 
mysterious  friend,  who  will  turn  out  to  be  her  father.  So 
much  space  is  given  to  her  fortunes  that  the  marriage  of  Le 
Glorieux  to  Valere's  sister,  which  should  be  the  principal 
plot  of  the  play,22  is  almost  relegated  to  the  background. 
Yet  in  spite  of  these  pronounced  divergencies  in  their  treat- 
ment of  the  subject,  and  in  their  methods  of  dramatic 
construction,  Destouches  and  Moliere  meet  again  in  their 
respective  solutions.  In  each  a  satisfactory  outcome  rewards 
the  constancy  of  the  lovers.  The  missing  father  of  the 
valet  appears,  the  disguised  parent  of  the  maid  reveals  him- 
self and  the  revelation  of  their  position  removes  all  obstacles 
to  their  children's  happiness. 

The  novelistic  element  of  U  Avare  and  Le  Glorieux,  there- 
fore, is  in  its  essence  the  same.  Of  far  greater  volume  in 
the  one  than  in  the  other,  there  is  yet  no  trait  in  the  one 
that  has  not  already  been  outlined  by  the  other.  And  this 
faithful  repetition  of  the  ideas  of  the  master  playwright  is 
emphasized  by  a  further  loan  on  the  part  of  his  admiring 
disciple.  Harpagon's  son  had  a  sweetheart,  Mariane,  who 
was  instinctively  drawn  to  Valere  at  their  very  first  meet- 
ing.23    Lisette,  too,  was  ever  conscious  of  an  inexplicable  lean- 

'n  Peirce,  op.  cit.,  p.  59. 

aMon  cceur  s'est  6mu  des  le  moment  que  vous  avez  ouvert  la 
bouche.     L'Avare,  Act  v,  Sc.  5. 


11]  CLASSICAL    DRAMA    AND   COMKDIE    LARMOYANTE  185 

ing  towards  Le  Glorieux.24  The  identification  of  their  fathers 
furnishes  in  both  cases  the  reasons  for  this  involuntary  senti- 
ment. Mariane  and  Valere  prove  to  be  brother  and  sister, 
as  do  Lisette  and  Le  Glorieux.  The  cry  of  the  blood  had 
warned  them.25 

24  Sans  deviner  pourquoi  j'ai  du  penchant  pour  lui.  Le  Glorieux, 
Act  i,  Sc.  2. 

**  Destouches  is  not  at  all  averse  to  repeating  situations  and 
details.  In  L'Obstacle  imprevu,  where  his  leaning  towards  serious 
comedy  is  first  noticeable,  he  makes  a  father,  Lisimon,  and  his  son, 
Valere,  in  love  with  the  same  girl,  Julie.  Their  clash  of  interests 
was  probably  suggested  by  the  courtship  that  Harpagon  and  his  son, 
Cleante,  carried  on  with  Mariane.  An  echo  of  L'Obstacle  impr&vu 
is  given  by  Le  Glorieux,  where  Lisimon  and  Valere  again  appear 
as  father  and  son.  Lisimon  does  not  woo  Lisette.  He  is  married. 
But  he  offers  her  violence.  Another  loan  made  by  Le  Glorieux  from 
L'Obstacle  imprevu  is  the  name  of  the  old  man,  Licandre,  who  in 
each  play  is  the  hero  of  a  romanesque  adventure. 


THE  PLACE  OF  CHATEAUBRIAND  AS  A  CRITIC 
OF   ITALIAN  LITERATURE 

BY 

B.  L.  Bowen 


Like  many  of  the  romanticists  who  followed  him,  Chateau- 
briand felt  the  peculiar  fascination  of  Italy,  and  as  traveler 
and  linguist  was  drawn  into  sympathetic  relations  with  the 
life  and  literature  of  that  country.  After  America  and  Eng- 
land, it  was  Italy  that  next  attracted  him  and  that  continued 
for  forty  years  to  exert  its  influence  upon  him.  An  ambitious 
traveler,  he  made  the  journey  to  Italy  six  times;  and  while  the 
ostensible  motive  of  most  of  these  visits  was  a  political  or  a 
diplomatic  one,  it  was  the  poetical  and  critical  nature  of  the 
man  that  was  the  more  deeply  affected.  His  liking  for 
languages  had  shown  itself  early  in  life,  and,  possessing  an 
extraordinary  memory,  his  progress  in  language-study  had,  as 
a  school-boy,  been  remarkably  rapid.  While  he  spoke  Italian 
less  fluently  than  he  did  English,  his  knowledge  of  the  litera- 
ture of  Italy  was  commendable,  and  his  memory  was  stored 
with  passages  from  the  great  Italian  poets. 

While  so  many  of  the  great  writers  have  visited  and  written 
about  Italy,  very  few  perhaps  have  risen  to  a  full  and  adequate 
appreciation  of  her.  The  poet  and  the  critic  are  often  limited 
by  a  temperament  and  a  point  of  view  which  may  be  pre- 
judicial to  breadth  of  judgment.  It  was  nature  rather  than 
literature  in  Italy  that  appealed  to  Lamartine.  Madame  de 
Stael  was  impressed  mainly  by  art  in  Italy,  while  her  literary 
tastes  were  rather  with  Germany.  And  Byron,  who  failed  to 
penetrate  the  depths  of  Italian  thought,  was  moved  by  the 
passionate  scenes  in  Dante,  while  the  moral  and  religious  force 
of  the  Divina  Commedia  escaped  him  or  had  for  'him  little  at- 
11  187 


188  BOWEN  [2 

traction.  In  the  case  of  Chateaubriand,  who  was  a  man  of 
pronounced  personal  peculiarities,  it  was  inevitable  that  his 
critical  attitude  toward  the  Italian  writers  should  be  shaped 
in  large  measure  by  his  own  temperament  and  experiences. 
He  had  been  an  emigre  in  England,  and  he  was  proud  of  that, 
as  of  much  else.  He  liked  to  emphasize  his  own  exile  from 
France,  and  sought  while  in  Italy  to  sympathize  with  all  those 
who,  like  himself,  had  been  subject  to  banishment,  going  so 
far,  while  minister  at  Rome,  as  to  intercede  in  behalf  of  the 
exiled  brother  of  Napoleon.  This  temper  of  mind  on  the  part 
of  Chateaubriand  was  one  factor  which  helped  to  shape  his 
appreciation  of  Dante,  in  whom  he  reveres  the  illustrious  exile 
and  whom  he  had  not  at  first  fully  appreciated  as  a  poet.  It 
is  the  poet's  banishment  that  furnishes  him  with  a  key  to  his 
genius,  and,  after  following  him  in  his  exile,  the  Italian  tercets 
have  for  the  French  artist  a  new  charm.  At  Ravenna  it  is  the 
thought  of  the  poet's  misfortune  and  death  in  exile  that  move 
him  to  sympathetic  comment. 

Chateaubriand  was  a  solitary  being  who  loved  to  withdraw 
within  himself.  And  indeed  the  great  Florentine  was,  accord- 
ing to  the  statement  of  his  earliest  biographer,  a  man  who 
"  loved  to  be  solitary  and  apart  from  mankind."  At  all  events 
it  is  evident  that  the  melancholy,  the  sombre,  the  pathetic, 
always  very  congenial  to  the  spirit  of  Chateaubriand,  are  fea- 
tures that  appealed  to  him  very  forcibly  in  his  study  of  the 
Divina  Commedia.  Sadness  was  for  him  the  most  essential 
quality  of  Dante's  language.  And  he  found  nothing  more  im- 
pressive than  the  tremendous  solitude  of  the  dark  wood  in 
which  Dante  wanders  at  the  beginning  of  the  Inferno.  The 
Inferno  appeals  particularly  to  Chateaubriand.  He  admires 
to  the  fullest  extent  the  poet's  genius  as  shown  in  the  depict- 
ing of  unmitigated  woes  and  torments,  but  is  less  enthusiastic 
where  it  is  necessary  to  portray  sorrows  mingled  with  some 
joys.  Despair  was  better  suited  to  his  nature  than  hope,  and 
the  familiar  "  Lasciate  ogni  speranza  "  was  the  text  of  more 
than  one  passage  in  his  works.     The  religious  sentiment  in 


3]  CHATEAUBRIAND   AND  ITALIAN   LITERATURE  189 

Chateaubriand  and  the  religious  motive  in  much  of  what  he 
wrote  would  naturally  influence  him  in  his  judgment  of  a 
poem  like  the  Divina  Commedia.  Since  the  Christian  reli- 
gion attracted  him  as  the  most  poetic  and  the  most  beautiful 
of  all  the  religions  that  have  existed,  he  was  prepared  to 
recognize  poetic  beauties  in  Dante's  poem  and  anxious  to  at- 
tribute them  to  the  influence  of  Christianity.  The  more 
sombre  their  coloring  and  the  more  gruesome  and  involved  the 
setting,  the  more  typical  do  they  seem  to  him.  The  pit  of 
serpents  in  the  eighth  circle  of  the  Inferno  furnishes  an  un- 
answerable argument  in  favor  of  the  poetic  beauties  of  the 
Christian  religion.  And  even  the  celebrated  Francesca  da 
Rimini  episode,  as  dear  to  Chateaubriand  as  to  the  roman- 
ticists who  followed  him,  is  made  to  owe  much  of  its  pathos 
to  the  inflexible  justice  of  the  Christian  code.  "While  the  early 
commendation  bestowed  by  him  upon  Dante  was  at  times 
vague,  betokening  a  somewhat  superficial  acquaintance,  his 
later  and  more  mature  appreciation  connoted  an  intelligent 
grasp  of  the  poet's  thought.  The  faulty  standards  of  taste  and 
a  prosaic  tone  of  verse  which  he  discovered  in  some  of  the 
cantos  were  defects  which  caused  him  ennui,  as  did  so  much 
else  apart  from  Dante.  His  recognition,  however,  of  Dante's 
importance  as  a  forerunner,  and  his  emphasis  of  what  he  did 
for  the  Italian  language  and  literature,  his  adequate  parallel 
between  Dante  and  Vergil,  and  his  more  suggestive  compari- 
son of  Dante  and  Shakespeare,  are  indicative  of  Chateau- 
briand's place  in  the  domain  of  literary  criticism. 

His  interest  in  Petrarch  was  less  marked.  He  was  familiar 
with  the  Canzoniere  and  was  touched  by  the  soft  harmony  of 
the  poet's  verse.  He  had  visited  Avignon  and  Vaucluse,  and 
made  these  places  the  basis  of  felicitous  comments  upon  the 
poet's  relation  to  Laura.  And  he  placed  great  value  upon  the 
Latin  works  of  the  author,  one  of  which  he  rated  as  superior 
to  most  of  the  sonnets.  Chateaubriand  was  a  most  clever 
portrayer  of  the  charm  of  melancholy,  and  was  one  of  the  first 
to  emphasize  traces  of  it  found  in  earlier  epochs;  and  this 


190  BO  WEN  [4 

brought  him  closer  to  Petrarch,  whose  lines  expressive  of  his 
own  dejected  and  solitary  state  are  just  the  ones  that  provoked 
most  cordial  appreciation  on  the  part  of  the  French  critic. 

Ariosto  and  Tasso  are  linked  together  by  Chateaubriand  as 
the  two  noblest  men  of  genius  that  modern  Italy  has  produced, 
but  in  his  comparison  of  them  the  advantage  is  plainly  on  the 
side  of  the  latter.  And  here  the  temperament  of  the  critic 
again  intervenes.  Ariosto  was,  apart  from  the  question  of 
literary  merit,  a  relatively  fortunate  man,  attached  to  a  power- 
ful ducal  house,  playing  successfully  the  role  of  courtier,  and 
winning  more  or  less  substantial  favors.  For  this  primary 
reason  Chateaubriand  was  less  attracted  to  him  than  to  other 
more  unfortunate  men.  The  subject  too  of  the  Orlando 
Furioso  was  one  that  he  considered  ill-adapted  to  the  poet  and 
his  environment ;  and  it  occasioned  him  much  surprise  to  think 
that  Ariosto,  having  all  about  him  the  solemn  and  suggestive 
monuments  of  one  of  the  most  civilized  peoples  of  the  earth, 
should  have  seen  fit  to  turn  aside  and  consume  his  energies  in 
celebrating  the  paladins  of  a  semi-barbarous  France. 

But  to  Tasso  Chateaubriand  was  drawn  as  to  no  other 
Italian  writer.  The  religious  character  of  this  poet's  repre- 
sentative work  had,  as  in  the  case  of  Dante,  much  to  do  with 
the  critic's  cordial  attitude.  And  more  cogent  than  in  the 
case  of  Dante  were  misfortunes  and  wanderings  in  inspiring 
deep  sympathy  and  homage.  The  sad  story  of  Tasso's  life,  his 
delicate  and  super-sensitive  spirit,  his  morbidity,  his  religious 
excitement,  the  incurable  melancholy  of  his  disposition,  all  this 
appealed  strongly  to  a  man  of  Chateaubriand's  nature.  For 
him  Tasso  was  the  man  who  had  wept,  as  Ariosto  was  the 
man  who  had  laughed.  While  at  Ferrara  he  visited  the  sup- 
posed prison  of  Tasso,  and  wrote  many  vivid  pages  about  the 
poet  and  his  misfortunes,  emphasizing  the  thought  that  if 
there  is  any  one  life  illustrative  of  the  fact  that  happiness  must 
be  despaired  of  by  men  of  genius,  it  is  that  of  Tasso.  Chateau- 
briand had  himself  passed  through  a  brief  period  of  imprison- 
ment, and  he  utilized  this  circumstance  as  a  pretext  for  a 


5]  CHATEAUBRIAND  AND  ITALIAN   LITERATURE  191 

comparison  of  his  own  experience  with  that  of  Tasso  in  his 
long  confinement  at  Ferrara.  In  the  mind  of  Chateaubriand 
Tasso  is  the  representative  Italian  poet.  For  him  Tasso  is 
always  the  Italian  Homer;  and  indeed  the  personages  of  the 
Gerusalemme  Liberaia  are  judged  superior  to  those  of  the 
Iliad.  Tasso,  in  portraying  his  knights,  has  given  types  of  the 
perfect  warrior;  while  Homer,  in  portraying  men  of  the  old 
heroic  ages,  has  drawn  only  species  of  monsters.  And  the 
reason  is  that  here  once  more  Christianity  has  stepped  in  and 
has  furnished  the  beau  ideal  for  the  characters ;  and  that  thus 
Tasso,  himself  the  most  devoted  of  knights,  had  an  advantage 
which  polytheism  could  not  offer  to  the  singer  of  Ilium.  Tas- 
so's  poem  is  for  Chateaubriand  a  convincing  proof  that  some- 
thing excellent  can  be  produced  upon  a  Christian  theme ;  and 
it  might  have  been  more  powerful  had  the  poet  been  less  timid, 
and  had  he  dared  to  utilize  more  freely  the  grand  machinery 
of  Christianity.  According  to  Chateaubriand  there  have  been 
in  modern  times  only  two  noble  subjects  for  an  epic  poem : 
the  Crusades  and  the  Discovery  of  the  New  World.  The 
former  is  the  more  attractive  to  a  Frenchman,  and  Chateau- 
briand is  convinced  that  Tasso,  in  utilizing  this  subject,  has 
constructed  a  poem  which  is  a  model  in  every  respect.  While 
the  art  with  which  the  poet  has  arranged  his  scenes  and 
mingled  his  episodes  without  confusing  them  is  admirable,  his 
character-sketching  is  not  less  skillful.  Chateaubriand  was  on 
the  watch  for  contrasts,  and  he  was  quick  to  see  and  emphasize 
in  Tasso's  men  the  clever  grouping  of  the  qualities  of  fierceness 
and  generosity,  grandeur  and  magnanimity,  prudence  and 
artifice;  and  in  his  women  coquetry,  sensibility,  and  indiffer- 
ence. During  his  journey  to  the  Orient,  Chateaubriand  had 
with  him  at  Jerusalem  a  copy  of  the  Gerusalemme  Liberata, 
and  he  notes  with  enthusiasm  the  fidelity  and  precision  of 
Tasso's  descriptions,  the  vigor  and  purity  of  his  style,  his 
exquisite  judgment,  his  sublime  expressions,  his  admirable 
stanzas.  Such  are  the  critic's  favorite  epithets  in  discussing 
Tasso's  lines.     The  poem  is  for  him  full  of  honor  and  chivalry ; 


192  BOWEN  [0 

it  is  a  soldier's  poem,  permeated  with  a  spirit  of  valor  and 
glory,  so  that  one  might  fancy  it  had  been  written  upon  a 
shield  in  the  midst  of  the  active  camp.  Chateaubriand  in- 
dulges in  much  praise  of  this  sort.  To  be  sure  Tasso  is  at 
times  hampered  by  his  lack  of  boldness,  and  some  of  his  lines 
are  in  poor  taste,  while  others  show  evidence  of  undue  haste. 

The  death  of  Alfieri  occurred  while  Chateaubriand  was  in 
Italy  for  the  first  time.  He  had  never  seen  Alfieri  in  life,  bat 
was  present  at  the  preparations  for  his  funeral;  and  this 
incident,  which  he  first  describes  in  his  letter  to  M.  de  Fon- 
tanes  and  repeats  later  in  his  Memoires,  made  a  strong  impres- 
sion upon  his  mind  and  led  him  to  take  an  active  interest  in 
the  works  of  the  poet.  He  was  further  influenced  by  the  fact 
that  Alfieri  had  also  been  a  writer  of  memoirs,  while  he  him- 
self was  preparing  to  write  his  own  autobiography.  And  this 
helps  to  explain  why  he  preferred  the  author's  memoirs  to  his 
tragedies,  discovering  in  the  former  a  more  natural  tone,  but 
pronouncing  the  latter  crude,  cold,  and  pompous  in  style. 
Again,  the  passion  for  travel  Avas  common  to  both  of  these 
men,  and  this  fact  likewise  led  Chateaubriand  to  find  a  charm 
in  passages  of  Alfieri's  memoirs  which  he  failed  at  times  to 
discern  in  his  more  pretentious  works. 

Manzoni  and  Silvio  Pellico  are  associated  together  in  the 
mind  of  Chateaubriand  as  farewell  rays  of  Italian  glory.  But 
the  former  was  for  him  much  the  less  attractive  figure;  and 
though  he  was  familiar  with  I  Promessi  Sposi,  his  interest  in 
that  work  was  incidental  and  his  remarks  upon  the  author 
have  little  critical  value.  In  Pellico,  however,  he  found  an- 
other congenial  spirit,  and  again  misfortune  served  as  the 
bond  of  union.  At  Venice  the  sight  of  the  rooms  in  the 
Doge's  palace  where  Pellico  had  been  first  imprisoned  aroused 
him  to  vivid  and  impressive  comments  which  are  marred  only 
by  the  unnecessary  projection  of  his  own  personality  and  ex- 
periences into  his  description.  The  perusal  of  the  Prigioni 
carried  his  enthusiasm  to  the  highest  pitch.  He  was  de- 
lighted, and  his  delight  expressed  itself  in  a  gay  and  jaunty 


7]  CHATEAUBRIAND   AND   ITALIAN   LITERATURE  193 

st}'le  as  he  penned  his  appreciation  to  Madame  Recamier. 
What  appealed  to  Chateaubriand  as  critic  was  not  so  much 
the  bearing  of  the  work  as  a  whole,  as  the  lively  interest  of  its 
various  characters  and  episodes.  These  he  found  very  pic- 
turesque and  romantic,  or  at  least  he  sought  to  lend  to  them  a 
decidedly  picturesque  and  romantic  coloring. 

Chateaubriand's  knowledge  of  literary  Italy  extended  to 
Boccaccio  and  Metastasio,  to  the  sonnets  of  Michael  Angelo, 
the  novelettes  of  Bandello,  and  the  poetry  of  Francini,  the 
Florentine  friend  of  Milton.  Of  Goldoni  he  would  seem  to 
have  known  little,  and  doubtless  he  cared  little  for  the  comic 
tone  of  that  writer ;  though  from  his  own  assertions  he  studied 
and  noted  much  more  about  Italy  and  her  writers  than  he  was 
able  to  incorporate  in  his  Memoires  or  other  works.  At  all 
events  his  knowledge  of  Italian  literature  was  unusually  broad 
for  his  time.  His  attitude  was  very  sympathetic  if  the  life  of 
the  writer  in  question  had  been  unfortunate.  His  literary 
judgments  were  often  adequate,  especially  if  the  works  had  a 
religious  setting  or  a  sombre  tone.  His  visits  to  Italy  did  not 
inspire  him  to  write  a  novel  or  a  poem  upon  that  country ;  and 
Corinne  and  the  fourth  canto  of  Childe  Harold  were  composed 
while  he  was  collecting  material  for  his  Memoires.  It  was 
rather  in  critical  and  descriptive. writing  that  Chateaubriand 
communicated  his  impressions  of  Italian  life  and  literature. 
In  this  role  of  critic  he  was  sometimes  unduly  influenced  by 
his  own  point  of  view.  He  was  too  much  inclined,  in  forming 
his  critical  estimates,  to  bring  himself  into  the  foreground, 
and  to  view  the  writer  through  the  medium  of  his  own  tem- 
perament, tastes,  and  experiences. 


13 


THE  POETRY  OF  SULLY  PRUDHOMME1 


BY 

E.  Preston  Dargan 


In  1902,  Catulle  Mendes  declared,  in  his  frothy  way,  that 
the  talent  of  Sully  Prudhomme  had  long  since  overflowed  the 
vase,  the  beautiful  broken  vase,  wherein  certain  admirers  had 
sought  to  confine  it.  These  admirers,  among  whom  the  names 
of  Gautier  and  Ste.  Beuve  are  not  least,  spoke  in  the  days 
before  the  elegist  had  formally  donned  the  philosopher's  robe ; 
they  were  right  in  remarking  his  primary  qualities  of  sensi- 
bility, tenderness,  melancholy;  they  were  safe  in  caressing  the 
contour  of  a  vase,  filled,  as  it  appeared,  with  eau  sucree  not 
far  from  the  lake  of  Lamartine  and  transported  to  a  retreat 
not  unlike  the  ivory  tower  of  De  Vigny — where  it  was  yet  to 
enshrine  the  flower  which  the  poet  saw  as  La  Pensee. 

In  1910,  it  would  seem  time  at  least  to  begin  the  search  for 
a  final  position.  Sully  Prudhomme  died  three  years  ago. 
Recently  there  have  been  issued  not  only  a  posthumous  col- 
lection of  his  earlier  unpublished  lyrics,2  but  also  an  excellent 
monograph  by  M.  Zyromski,  whose  work  as  a  paysagiste  will 
be  remembered.  I  shall  endeavor  to  summarize  the  impres- 
sions received  from  a  study  of  the  complete  poems,  with  sev- 
eral side-lights;  and  to  clear  up  a  little  the  main  question  as 

1  Oeuvres,  Lemerre,  5  vols.  ( Edition  elzevirienne. )  Epaves,  Lemerre, 
1908.  Testament  PoMique,  1904.  Hemon,  La  Philosophic  de  Sully 
Prudhomme,  1907.  Zyromski,  Sully  Prudhomme,  1907.  Pierre  Fons, 
Sully  Prudhomme,  1907  (in  "Les  C6l6brit6s  d'aujourd'hui.")  A 
bibliography  is  published  in  this  last. 

1  Les  Epaves. 

1]  195 


196  DARGAN  [2 

to  whether  Sully  Prudhomme  could  fuse  and  magnify  head 
and  heart,  rank  with  the  philosophic  Olympians,  blow  through 
bronze  as  well  as  breathe  through  silver. 


II. 


The  essential  facts  in  his  life  are  that  he  was  a  brooding 
school-boy,  inept  for  action,  fond  always  of  books  and  medita- 
tion. That  about  his  twentieth  year  he  underwent  a  religious 
crisis,  found  himself  feeble  in  health  and  began  to  write. 
Then  he  came  under  the  influence  of  Leconte  de  Lisle  and 
passed  through  the  unfortunate  love-affair  which  gave  him  the 
better  part  of  his  purely  lyrical  inspiration.  The  Stances  et 
Poemes  of  1865  give  ample  proof  of  his  sensibility,  if  less  of 
his  poetic  maitrise.  This  was  much  benefited,  he  has  hand- 
somely acknowledged,  by  his  brief  connection  with  the  Parnas- 
sians, who  taught  him  to  shun  chevilles,  compress  the  Lamar- 
tinian  vagueness  and  seek  above  all  le  mot  juste. 

From  now  on,  the  poet's  career  was  declared,  he  abandoned 
his  law  studies,  travelled  in  Italy,  brought  out  two  more  elegiac 
volumes  and  came  through  the  siege  of  '70  with  health  per- 
manently wrecked. 

Les  Vaines  Tendresses  of  1875  may  be  considered  by  its 
very  title  to  show  what  inner  development  was  taking  place. 
For  ten  years  he  had  written  chiefly  from  the  memories  of  his 
wounded  love.  -  His  Elvire  had  not  become  a  Beatrice :  she 
had  remained  a  woman,  desired  and  lost.  If  he  was  to  strug- 
gle through,  however  maimed,  to  some  sort  of  life  and  expres- 
sion, a  wider  feeling  must  move  him.  The  nobility  of  his 
character  is  shown  patently  for  those  who  have  eyes  to  see  in 
the  fact  that  from  an  elegist  he  became  a  humanitarian. 

That  these  abstract  terms  meant  something  in  his  case 
appears  from  what  follows.  It  is  true  that  he  did  not  mingle 
actively  as  a  philanthropist  or  as  anything  else  in  contem- 
porary life.  He  was  none  the  less  nearly  torn  asunder  by  the 
problems   of  human   destinies   in   the   large.     With   Marcus 


3]  POETRY   OF   SULLY   PRUDHOMME  197 

Aurelius  and  Pascal  for  his  guides,  "  avec  des  angoisses  et  des 
veilles  n  for  his  food  of  life,  this  poet  spent  the  remainder  of 
his  days  in  trying  to  find  out  what  we  are,  whither  we  are 
tending  and  principally  what  will  help  us  go  forward.  The 
results,  in  so  far  as  they  appear  in  the  long  poems  La  Justice 
and  Le  Bonheur,  will  be  recorded  shortly. 

His  fame,  grounded  on  the  earlier  volumes,  increased  during 
these  years.  He  was  elected  to  the  Academy  in  1881  and 
received  in  1901  the  Nobel  Prize,  with  which  he  established  a 
prize,  bearing  his  own  name,  for  the  younger  generation  of 
poets. 

III. 

There  are  dozens  of  pieces  in  his  first  volume,  expressing 
poignantly  the  whole  gamut  of  disappointed  passion  from 
direct  jealousy  and  baffled  desire,  through  the  mournfulness 
of  memories,  down  to  the  more  discreet  though  scarcely  less 
moving  hint  of  the  happiness  that  might  have  been.  Of 
bitter  invective  there  is  little;  of  resignation  not  a  trace  as 
yet.  Especially  in  this  first  volume,  there  is  occasional  mievre- 
rie  and  infelicity.  The  lyrics  are  usually  quite  simple  in 
form,  of  a  few  stanzas  only,  sometimes  showing  a  pretty  use 
of  the  refrain,  as  in — 

"  Ici-bas  les  levres  effleurent 
Sans  rien  laisser  de  leur  velours; 
Je  rSve  aux  baisers  qui  demeurent 
Toujours  .      ." 

This  is  one  instance  of  the  eternal  elegiac  regret  for  fleet- 
ing joy,  which  naturally  came  to  compound  itself  with  his 
more  personal  melancholy.  Other  elements  are  the  ever-de- 
feated yearning  to  grasp  and  sympathize  with  all  things;  the 
powerlessness  of  the  dream  which  yet  remains  a  habit;  the 
sharply  snapped  link  between  the  ideals  of  youth  and  the  facts 
of  manhood ;  the  disconcerted  gaze  over  the  domain  of  human 


198  DARGAN  [4 

action,  producing  already  the  unappeasable  cui  bono  question- 
ings; and  chiefly  that  attachment  of  everything  to  the  loved 
object,  according  to  Stendhal's  crystallization  process,  with 
the  feeling  that  the  loss  of  her  meant  the  loss  of  all.  There 
are  many  poems  where  these  things  are  not  directly  considered, 
where  they  merely  serve  as  a  pensive  background  to  some  less 
intimate,  equally  poetic  outburst. 

To  analyze  his  reveries  is  easier  than  to  bring  out,  except 
by  too  frequent  quotation,  the  great  charm  and  delicacy  of  his 
treatment.  It  is  the  brush  of  a  bee's  wing,  the  coloring  of  a 
wild-flower.  One  striking  technical  point  is  the  handling  of 
the  last  stanza  and  the  last  line.  It  is  generally  conceded  that 
the  last  line  is  what  makes  the  modern  sonnet.  Therein  lies 
the  epigrammatic  sting,  like  the  closing  sentence  of  one  of 
Burke's  paragraphs  or  of  the  Maupassantian  short  story. 
Sully  Prudhomme  applies  this  principle  with  a  craftsmanship 
effecting  rather  more  than  a  suspension  of  interest,  a  veritable 
revelation  at  the  close. 

Here  is  an  example  of  such  construction,  expressing  as  well 
his  soul-state  during  this  period : — 

"Vous  d6sirez  savoir  de  moi 
WoU  me  vient  pour  vous  ma  tendresse  •, 
Je  vous  aime,  voici  pourquoi : 
Vous  ressemblez  a  ma  jeunesse. 

Vos  yeux  noirs  sont  mouilles  souvent 
Par  l'espSrance  et  la  tristesse, 
Et  vous  allez  toujours  revant: 
Vous  ressemblez  a  ma  jeunesse. 

Je  vous  tends  chaque  jour  la  main, 
Vous  offrant  l'amour  qui  m'oppresse; 
Mais  vous  passez  votre  chemin  .  .  . 
Vous  ressemblez  a  ma  jeunesse." 

The  great  simplicity  of  this  is  apparent.  I  find  again  and 
again  poems  of  a  Wordsworthian,  almost  a  conversational 
phrasing,  which  lose  nothing,  for  a  foreigner  at  least,  by  their 


5]  POETRY   OF   SULLY   PRUDIIOMME  199 

directness.  Certainly  poetic  diction  is  less  of  an  enclosed 
garden  with  the  French  than  with  us.  At  the  same  time,  the 
Romanticists  and  the  Parnassians  have  sufficiently  shown  that 
the  cult  of  the  fatal  word  can  be  extended,  if  not  to  the  orna- 
mental word,  at  least  to  the  exotic,  rare,  subtly  associative 
word,  which  seeks  to  reveal  horizons.  Sully  Prudhomme  too 
could  do  this  on  occasion — Le  Cygne  is  an  example.  Yet  his 
talent  was  not  really  descriptive.  He  has,  for  instance,  few 
landscape  effects.  Nature  for  him  was  mainly  an  enigma  who 
vouchsafed  symbols,  and  Zyromski  notices  particularly  the  lily, 
the  star,  the  clear  sky.  But  the  poet's  heart-throbs  usually 
subsist  by  the  force  of  their  independent  rhythm. 

It  should  also  be  remarked  that  he  naturally  strength- 
ened and  sobered  his  vocabulary  as  he  matured.  Similes  lost 
their  occasional  touch  of  the  conceit,  and  the  sonnets  espe- 
cially sweep  to  their  close  with  a  masterly  impulsion  of  winged 
words. 

In  his  earlier  manner,  here  are  some  of  the  admirable  lines : 

"  La  pensee  est  pour  vous  un  mal  ne"  d'une  absence." 

(Les  Epaves.) 
"  Comment  fais-tu  les  grands  amours, 
Petite  ligne  de  la  bouche?" 

(Stances  et  Poemes.) 

Again : 

"  Je  t'aime  en  attendant  mon  eternelle  epouse." 

(Vaines  Tendresses.) 

"  J'ecoute  en  moi  pleurer  un  etr anger  sublime 
Qui  m'a  toujours  cach6  sa  patrie  et  son  nom." 

(Vaines  Tendresses.) 
With  a  touch  of  preciosity : 

"  J'honore  dans  la  plume  un  souvenir  de  l'aile." 

(Stances  et  Po&mes.) 

To  the  violet: 


200  DAEGAN  [6 

"  Fleur  du  soupir  timide  et  du  tremblant  aveu, 
Tu  dois  §tre  cherchee  et  par  les  yeux  conquise, 
Des  secrets  ombrageux  la  confidente  exquise, 
Fleur  d'espoir,  de  pardon,  de  rappel  et  d'adieu! 


(Les  Epaves.) 


The  constellation  of  the  Great  Bear : 


"  O  figure  fatale,  exacte  et  monotone, 
Pareille  a  sept  clous  d'or  planted  dans  un  drap  noir.'  ' 

(Les  Epreuves.) 

For  the  happiness  of  poets: 

"  II  leur  faut  une  solitude 
Ou  voltige  un  baiser." 

(Vaines  Tendresses.) 

Among  the  conceits,  one  may  hesitate  at  the  idea  of  a 
mother  as  an  "  unique  Dana'ide  " ;  of  a  brain  which  is  absorbed 
in  dreams  as  a  soaked  sponge  descends  in  the  water;  of  a  man 
who  has  made  his  shroud  "  avec  un  pan  du  ciel." — Illustrating 
the  emotional  torment  of  this  period,  I  quote  the  splendid 
sonnet  called  Inquietude  :3 

"  Pour  elle  dgsormais  je  veux  6tre  si  bon, 
Si  bon,  qu'elle  se  sache  aveuglement  cherie; 
Je  ne  lui  dirai  plus :  '  II  faut,'  mais  '  Je  t'en  prie  .  .  .  ' 
Et  je  prendrai  les  torts,  lui  laissant  le  pardon. 

Mais  quel  a  pre  murmure  au  fond  de  moi  dit :  '  Non !  ' 
Contre  un  servile  amour  toute  ma  fierie"  crie. 
Non!  je  veux  qu'6tant  mienne,  a  ma  guise  pgtrie, 
Ce  soit  elle,  et  non  moi,  qui  craigne  l'abandon. 

Tantot  je  lui  d£couvre  en  entier  ma  faiblesse; 
Tantot,  rebelle  injuste  et  jaloux,  je  la  blesse 
Et  je  sens  dans  mon  cceur  sourdre  la  cruaute\ 

Elle  ne  comprend  pas,  et  je  lui  semble  infame. 
Oh !  que  je  serais  doux  si  tu  n'6tais  qu'une  ame ! 
Ce  qui  me  rend  mechant,  vois-tu,  c'est  ta  beaute\" 

*  Les  Epreuves. 


7]  -  POETRY   OF   SULLY   PRUDHOMME  201 

IV. 

Passing  from  the  strictly  subjective  lyrics,  I  will  say  at  once 
that  Sully  Prudhomme's  best  work  seems  to  me  to  lie  in  those 
fields  where  his  personal  melancholy  is  swayed  to  a  larger 
expression,  and  his  spirit,  rising  from  its  fruitless  revery, 
comes  into  grave  conscious  strife  with  the  ever-waiting  prob- 
lems. The  philosophic  "  meditation "  tempered  with  senti- 
ment was  his  forte. 

I  have  thought  of  him  as  a  metaphysician  malgre  lux,  and 
he  was  that,  inasmuch  as  love-poetry  would  have  been  his 
more  natural  utterance,  had  the  inspiration  for  this  been 
happy  and  durable.     But  contemning 

"  Ces  deuils  voluptueux  des  vaincus  sans  combats," 

he  was  forced  by  his  "  sublime  stranger  "  to  enter  the  cold  re- 
pugnant halls  of  philosophy,  and  he  came  out,  as  he  perfectly 
admitted  twenty  years  later,  by  the  same  door  wherein  he 
went,  as  far  as  a  thorough  intellectual  or  scientific  explana- 
tion of  the  universe  is  concerned.  Yet  it  would  be  a  mistake 
to  imagine  that  his  passage  through  is  bare  of  interest  and 
meaning. 

Already  in  the  poem  called  Intus  of  the  first  volume,  there 
are  heard  the  two  warring  voices,  that  of  iconoclastic  reason 
and  that  of  love  which  cries,  "  Espere,  6  ma  sceur !  .  .  ." 
Later,  the  combat  takes  many  forms. — Poetry  is  set  a- 
gainst  science  in  half-a-dozen  pieces.  Poetry  is  outwardly 
reconciled  to  science  in  the  sonnets  of  Les  Epreuves,  in  Le 
Zenith,  which  was  inspired  by  a  balloon  ascension,  and 
notably  in  one  place  where  he  divines  that  the  great  poetry  of 
the  future  must  grasp  and  go  beyond  scientific  conclusions, 
must  feel  the  symbolism  of  "  many  inventions,"  while  ignor- 
ing their  detail.  He  frequently  apostrophizes  the  scientists — 
he  seeks  "  a  Newton  of  the  soul."    La  Beaute  4  shows  the  joy 

4  Vaines  Tendresses. 


202  DARGAN  [8 

of  the  plastic  artist  as  opposed  to  the  suffering  of  the  man  of 
letters,  who  must  endeavor  to  set  up  the  dream  of  his  rigid 
goddess  in  the  full  tide  of  realities.  Still  another  aspect  of 
the  strife  appears  in  Sur  un  vieux  tableau.6  This  is  a  poign- 
ant depiction  of  the  death  of  Christ  set  off  by  the  indifference 
of  men,  the  banality  of  the  day's  work,  the  composure  of  earth 
and  heaven.  La  Voie  Lactee 6  shows  the  loneliness  of  the 
stars,  paralleling  the  loneliness  of  man.  L'JJne  d'Elles7  de- 
clares that  a  soul  isolated  in  its  Palace  of  Art,  surrounded  by 
luxuries,  is  yet  unsatisfied.  The  parable  L'Art  et  V  Amour p 
tells  us  that  the  wind  of  inspiration  cannot  linger  with  the 
flower  of  love  which  implores  him,  and  that  both  die  before 
evening.  In  Sur  la  Mori,9  bewildered  by  the  riddles  and  cry- 
ing out  on  dogmas,  the  poet  abandons  himself  and  a  dead  loved 
one  to  the  laws  of  the  universe — whatever  they  may  be. 

The  best  of  these  vital  lyrics  are  the  sonnets — the  noble 
sequence  called  La  France,  where  the  poet  tries  to  discover  a 
future  for  his  country — the  moving  intimate  sonnets  of  Lea 
Epaves,  and  especially  those  of  Les  Epreuves,  where  I  think 
his  most  artistic  mingling  of  thought  and  sentiment  is  to  be 
found.  As  Lemaitre  has  pointed  out,  nearly  half  of  these 
are  symbols  or  metaphors,  with  their  application  justly  and 
grandly  developed.  In  their  four  divisions  of  Amour,  Doute, 
Eeve,  Action,  they  include  such  masterpieces  as  the  Inquie- 
tude already  quoted;  the  familiar  Dana'ides;  Rouge  ou  Noire, 
where  he  tosses  on  the  tapis  with  Pascal  for  the  chance  of  a 
divinity;  Un  Bonhomme,  a  remarkable  presentment  of  Spi- 
noza ;  La  Fatalite,  showing  the  necessity  of  the  poet's  love,  the 
hopelessness  of  changing  it  for  another  happier  one.  Finally 
Un  Songe  and  Homo  Sum  return  to  the  sense  of  human  fel- 
lowship, the  rejoicing  in  labor,  the  call  of  action.  As  evincing 
his  control  of  the  form  and  as  characteristic  of  his  "  ame  en 
peine  et  de  passage,"  I  would  mention  especially  the  sonnet 
styled  La  Fontaine  de  Jouvence.10 

6  Stances  et  Poemes.        *  Les  Solitudes.        ''Les  Solitudes;  compare 
below  Le  Bonheur.        *  Vaines  Tendresses.        •  Vaines  Tendresses. 
10  Les  Epaves. 


9]  POETRY   OF   SULLY   PRUDHOMME  203 


For  his  systematic  conclusions  in  the  matter  of  philosophy, 
we  must  turn  to  the  two  poems  La  Justice  and  Le  Bonheur. 

The  purport  of  La  Justice  is  to  ascertain  whether  there  is 
a  moral  order  in  the  universe — no  less.  Otherwise  stated,  it 
investigates  whether  the  rhythm  of  nature  accords  with  the 
aspirations  of  man,  and  seeks  a  higher  harmony,  an  ultimate 
law.  The  argument  unrolls  itself  in  a  series  of  eleven  veilles, 
consisting  of  debates  between  the  poet  and  certain  "  voices." 
The  first  half  of  the  poem  is  an  arraignment  of  nature  as  the 
enemy  of  justice,  life  and  love.  The  evolutionary  hypothesis, 
based  on  strife  and  tending  to  destruction,  is  adopted.  In  the 
soberest  of  styles,  beautiful  only  with  the  cold  beauty  of 
thought,  the  poet  tries  to  contemplate  impassively  a  loveless 
world.  The  hard  brilliant  sonnets  are  answered  by  a  voice 
which  maintains  more  tenderly  the  value  of  dreaming,  of  a 
certain  forgetfulness,  and  recommends  an  easy  acceptation  of 
love  and  of  justice  as  a  "  cri  du  coeur."  But  the  poet  will 
have  only  the  truth,  and  he  finds  it,  following  science,  in  the 
statement  that  death  is  the  law  of  life  between  species.  Each 
animal 

"  Est  un  gouffre  qui  r6de,  affame'  par  essence, 
Assouvi  par  hasard,  et,  par  instinct,  beunt. 
Aveugle  executeur  d'un  mal  obligatoire, 
Chaxjue  vivant  promene  ecrit  sur  sa  machoire 
L'arr§t  de  mort  d'un  autre,  exig6  par  sa  faim." 

Death  is  even  the  basis  of  love. — 

"  L'Amour  dresse,  au  milieu  du  charnier,  son  autel." 

The  world  began  in  a  state  of  war,  as  it  was  long  ago  declared 
by  Hobbes.  The  first  right  of  man  is  a  "  brevet  de  bourreau." 
Morality  is  a  later  compact,  still  for  egoistic  ends. 

In  the  same  species,  the  apparently  finer  impulses  can  all 


204  DARGAN  [10 

be  traced  to  self-interest.  Nature  is  prudent,  cunning,  uses 
even  the  ideal  attraction  of  sexual  love  as  a  veil  for  her  own 
purposes. — 

"Dans  l'oeil  indifferent  des  vierges,  6  Nature! 
Tu  fis  bien  d'allumer  un  cfileste  flambeau : 
Si  fort  que  soit  l'attrait  d'un  corps  novice  et  beau, 
C'est  grace  a  l'Id6al  que  l'humanite'  dure. 

Leur  regard,  fourvoye"  par  l'ennui  vers  le  ciel, 
Parait,  en  se  baissant,  nous  offrir  des  <§toiles; 
Et  nous  nous  approchons!     Voila  l'essentiel." 

Between  governments,  war  is  complicated  with  trickery  and 
military  honor  is  founded  on  murder.  It  is  a  false  abstrac- 
tion to  speak  of  the  brotherhood  of  man — men  are  often  more 
remote  from  one  another  than  from  their  dogs — and,  who, 
pray,  is  my  neighbor?  The  apparent  reciprocity  in  cities 
continues  to  be  based  on  need,  and  the  strongest  get  what 
they  can.  In  other  planets,  fatality  points  to  like  conditions 
merely  more  entangled  by  a  possible  divinity. 

As  I  understand  the  second  part  of  the  poem,  called  "  Appel 
au  Cceur,"  the  facts  of  science  are  not  to  be  answered  by  a 
heavenly  escape  or  by  resort  to  a  vaporous  faith.  The  facts 
are  very  much  as  they  have  been  stated.  Granted  the  aloof- 
ness of  Nature,  the  material  strife-basis,  the  whole  evolution- 
ary doctrine — and  in  Le  Boriheur  he  even  goes  so  far  as  to 
grant  the  annihilation  of  earth  and  its  inhabitants — there  re- 
main the  other  facts,  equally  inexpugnable,  that  man  has  an 
inner  order  of  his  own  which  he  has  to  some  extent  imposed 
upon  his  world,  that  mere  intelligence,  wrestling  only  with 
matter,  leaves  out  of  account  one  human  specific  difference, 
which  is  the  persistent  rule  of  conscience.  It  is  very  possible 
that  Justice,  outside  of  man,  has  no  reason  for  being,  and  that 
we  are  foolish  in  applying  human  conceptions  to  God  and. 
Nature.  But  the  evolutionary  laws  of  the  latter  are  none  the 
less  paralleled  in  the  growth  of  the  moral  sense.  Eemorse  is 
then  the  voice  of  this  wider  nature  scolding  her  heir,  and 


11]  POETRY   OF   SULLY   PRUDHOMME  205 

"  Nuire  a  l'munanite*  c'est  rompre  la,  spirale 
Oil  se  fait  pas  a  pas  l'ascension  morale 
Dont  les  mondes  sont  les  degres." 

Finally,  the  conscience  working  with  the  intelligence  pro- 
duces sympathy.  Kindliness  and  co-operation  rear  up  the 
City,  which  is  the  highest  expression  of  humanity — and  the 
concluding  definition  is : 

"  La  Justice  est  l'amour  guide1  par  la  lumiere." 

In  order  to  compare  this  directly  with  Le  Bonheur,  the 
content  of  the  latter  poem  may  also  be  briefly  given.  The 
scene  is  laid  in  some  unknown  Paradise.  Faustus,  the  hero, 
awakens  there  and  finds  his  earthly  love,  Stella,  by  his  side. 
The  first  part,  Les  Ivresses,  is  the  apotheosis  of  "  1' amour- 
passion."  The  lovers,  as  blessed  as  love  can  make  them, 
wander  through  Elysian  delights,  which  take  the  somewhat 
mundane  manifestations  of  savors  and  perfumes,  forms  and 
colors,  harmony  and  beauty.  It  is  again  a  Palace  of  Art,  where 
painters  possess  their  ideal  models  and  music  soars  un- 
restrained by  sorrow. — "  II  n'y  tremble  plus  de  soupir  .  .  . 
II  n'y  passe  plus  de  frisson  ...  II  n'y  tinte  plus  de  san- 
glot." X1  This  suggests  what  is  the  matter  with  it.  The 
lovers  are  shrouded  in  a  "  linceul  de  joie."  Aspiration  is  the 
highest  soul-expression,  but  this  very  beautiful  love  of  two  is 
not  the  perfect  aspiration,  since  it  has  no  lendemain  and  hence 
no  life.  Desire  and  dreaming  wear  themselves  out.  The 
insistent  Voix  de  la  Terre,  where  mortals  still  suffer,  comes 
as  an  interlude  after  every  ecstasy. 

The  second  part,  La  Pensee,  shows  Faustus  tormented  by 
le  mal  de  Vinconnu.  The  philosophers,  ancient  and  modern, 
and  the  scientists  speak;  the  whole  parchment  of  human 
thought  is  unrolled.  Pascal  appears  and  seems  to  solve  the 
unknown  with  the  three  key-words  of  charity,  modesty  before 

"  Compare  the  Limbes  of  Casimir  Delavigne. 


206  DAKGAN  [12 

the  first  cause,  and  law.  Stella,  by  some  transfiguration,  en- 
dues and  symbolizes  for  Faustus  these  three  attributes.  Their 
love,  crowned  and  fortified  by  knowledge,  would  now  seem 
truly  perfect. 

Still  the  Voices  of  the  Earth  come  nearer,  individualized  in 
their  woe.  The  idea  that  "  l'amour-sacrifice "  is  the  only 
complete  happiness,  in  that  it  contains  no  inquietude  or  after- 
math, is  exemplified  by  the  descent  of  Faustus  and  Stella, 
after  long  hesitation,  to  relieve  the  world's  burden.  They 
tread  upon  an  extinct  earth,  where  "  la  Mort,  l'aveugle  Mort, 
l'inf  aillible  Passeuse "  has  extended  her  •  reign  and  assures 
them  that  man  has  totally  disappeared.  The  impressive  de- 
scription of  this  manless  world,  its  effect  on  the  would-be 
benefactors,  are  followed  by  Stella's  determination  to  give 
birth  to  a  new  and  more  enlightened  race.  Thus  brusquely 
Le  Bonheur  ends. 

One  may  well  hesitate  as  to  the  absolute  ranking  of  these 
cosmic  epics,  when  Brunetiere  and  Anatole  France,  in  review- 
ing them,  have  thought  fit  to  abstain  from  a  summarizing 
judgment.  That  they  contain  much  deep  thought,  splendid 
lyrical  interludes,  some  prosing  and  incoherence,  and  that  they 
end  in  a  fine  faith  may  be  granted.  But  Le  Bonh-eur  is  an 
epic  drama  of  three  hundred  pages,  on  the  same  scale  and 
dealing  with  the  same  matters  as  Faust  or  Paradise  Regained. 
It  falls  below  these,  of  course.  Few  men  living  can  be  pre- 
pared to  decide  whether  it  is  a  huge  failure  per  se,  whether 
it  is  a  succes  d'estime,  what  posterity  will  prefer  to  do  about 
it.  The  long  poem  is  the  critic's  bane,  and  still  more  fre- 
quently the  reader's. 

Happily,  Sully  Prudhomme's  fame  as  a  poet  of  meditation 
can  rest  on  other  evidence.  At  least  one  may  say  that  before 
the  magnificent  range  of  thought  and  feeling  developed  in 
these  poems,  the  insidious  doubter  had  best  bow  his  head.  If 
he  insists  on  raising  it,  perhaps  he  may  question  how  far  this 
man's  failure  to  realize  himself  in  "  l'amour-passion  "  may 
have  influenced   his  advocacy  of  "  l'amour-sacrifice."     Is  it 


13]  POETRY   OF   SULLY   PRUDHOMME  207 

really  by  the  withering  of  the  individual  that  the  world  is 
more  and  more?  Again,  he  admits  the  reign  of  law  and  the 
souffle  of  aspiration.     What  if  we  aspire  beyond  the  law? 


VI. 


That  reverence  before  natural  law,  which  seems  to  be  his 
chief  article  of  faith,  finds  manifestation  as  well  in  his  ars 
poetica  and  his  own  technique.  The  Testament  Poetique  con- 
tains first  a  noble  view  of  the  poet's  function,  declaring  that 
he  should  be  neither  'an  egoistic  whiner  nor  a  mere  enter- 
tainer, but  that  he  must  guide,  philosophize  and  befriend.  It 
contains  also  certain  uncompromisingly  conservative  views  on 
versification.  He  will  have  none  of  the  innovations  of  the 
symbolists.  Victor  Hugo  carried  rhythm  as  far  as  it  could 
possibly  be  carried,  and  later  novelties  simply  invade  illegiti- 
mately the  realms  of  prose  or  of  music.  The  physiological 
laws  of  hearing  and  the  law  of  least  effort  must  apply  to 
the  two  kinds  of  rhythm,  regular  and  irregular.  In  regular 
rhythm,  where  the  lines  are  of  an  equal  number  of  syllables, 
the  caesura  must  so  fall  that  each  line  is  divided  either  into 
two  equal  parts,  or  parts  that  shall  be  as  little  unequal  as 
possible,  having,  that  is,  a  greatest  common  divisor.  In  lines 
of  an  unequal  number  of  syllables,  the  caesura  must  fall  as 
nearly  as  possible  in  the  middle.  These  principles  are  elab- 
orated with  illustrations.  Also  he  admits  no  rime  plus  que 
sufflsante.  He  is  willing  to  make  some  concessions  about  eye- 
rimes  and  hiatuses;  but  as  a  whole  his  intransigent  academic 
attitude  is  clearly  shown. 

He  boasts  that  he  himself  has  found  "  la  vieille  lyre " 
capable  of  answering  every  vibration  of  his  heart.  Technically 
he  has  introduced  nothing.  He  has  given  his  individual  note 
to  certain  forms,  such  as  the  sonnet  and  that  swallow-flight  of 
song  which  consists  of  a  few  quatrains. 

This  individual  note  is  a  quaver  of  hope  over  a  ground-bass 
of  defeat.     Humanly  speaking,  as  compared  with  most  of  his 


208  DARGAN  [14 

contemporaries  of  song,  it  would  be  narrow  not  to  observe 
that  he  is  cast  in  a  finer  mould,  and  that  he  has  remained  in 
the  fight,  keeping  a  larger  sense  of  the  world-struggle.  Of 
what  others  can  that  be  said  ?  The  Parnassians  frankly  repre- 
sent the  poetry  of  evasion,  frequently  obtaining  thereby  only 
an  aggravated  Weltschmerz  to  which  they  lost  the  antidote. 
Gautier  and  Theodore  de  Banville  are  incomparable  artists — 
but  are  they  good  alike  at  grave  and  gay  ?  Coppee,  it  is  true, 
comes  familiarly  nearer  the  living  heart  of  things.  From  the 
standpoint  of  pure  beauty-worship,  however, — and  certainly, 
whatever  may  be  said  of  the  other  sixty-eight,  it  is  impossible 
to  abjure  this  fundamental  way  of  constructing  tribal  lays — 
Sully  Prudhomme  bows  to  several  of  the  masters  named  as 
well  as  to  Verlaine,  who,  purely  as  a  matter  of  voice,  seems 
to  me  decidedly  the  most  exquisite  French  singer  after  Hugo. 

But  occasionally  "  the  dominant's  persistence  "  must  make 
its  sterner  appeal.  When  we  are  in  such  moods,  such  plight, 
if  you  will,  Sully  Prudhomme  may  well  be  heard,  with  his 
doctrine  of  aspiration  beyond  but  for  this  world,  a  world 
frankly  taken  as  not  very  satisfactory  to  the  sensitive  and  the 
thoughtful.  Leaving  out  of  account  improbable  heavens,  he 
holds  that  the  idealizing  function  of  man  must  call  for  some 
fulfillment.  "  Avec  ou  sans  certitude,  lever  les  yeux  c'est  le 
propre  de  l'homme." 

The  doubts  of  this  developed  creed  which  I  suggested  a  few 
pages  back  mean  only  that  the  poet  has  not  finally  fixed  the 
individual  in  the  cosmos.  When  that  is  done,  we  shall  have 
no  further  need  of  philosophers,  and  every  man  can  be  his  own 
poet.  While  waiting,  in  one  and  the  other  capacity,  Sully 
Prudhomme  may  be  commended  to  the  youth  of  America  as 
embodying  in  nobler  fashion  than  many  what  it  should  be 
our  chief  "  disinterested  endeavor  to  learn  and  propagate  " — 
the  modern  cultural  ethos  of  Europe. 


NOTES  ON  VICTOR  HUGO'S  VERSIFICATION 


BY 

Hugo  P.  Thieme 


In  reading  through  the  complete  poetical  works  of  Victor 
Hugo  one  notices  a  number  of  violations  of  the  rules  of 
French  verse.  The  first  impression  is  of  a  colossal  structure, 
the  general  appearance  of  which  seems  perfect,  but  on  closer 
inspection  slight  flaws  here  and  there  may  be  detected,  which 
do  not,  however,  dimmish  the  value  of  the  whole.  A  full 
treatment  of  all  the  questions  involved  would  require  more 
space  than  could  be  allotted  to  this  article.  I  have,  there- 
fore, confined  myself  to  mentioning  some  of  the  more  general 
features,  and  to  a  detailed  study  of  one  or  two  points.1 

Rhyme  and   General   Verse- Structure. 

1.  One  notices  from  the  very  beginning  the  recurrence  of 
certain  rhymes  which  grow  very  monotonous.  These  vary 
in  different  works.  In  the  "  Odes  et  Ballades  "  and  some  of 
his  earliest  lyric  volumes  such  words  as  gloire,  victoire,  etc., 
are  particularly  noticeable.  He  ceases  to  use  these  as  the 
nature  of  his  subject  changes.  The  combination  ombre — 
sombre,  with  variations  continues  throughout  his  works. 
This  frequent  repetition  to  the  point  of  monotony  was  un- 
doubtedly one  of  the  causes  which  induced  modern  poets  to 
break  completely  with  the  traditional  rules  of  rhyme  and  to 
develop  the  present  tendencies  which  allow  so  much  freedom. 

'This  study  is  based  on  the  Hetzel,  Ne  Varietur,  (12mo)  edition. 
The  few  volumes  thus  far  published  in  the  Edition  de  l'lmprimerie 
Xationale   have   also    been   consulted. 

1]  209 

14 


210  THIEME  [2 

2.  An  interesting  study  is  that  of  Victor  Hugo's  use  of 
foreign  words  in  rhyme.  He  seemed  to  believe  that  any 
series  of  letters  representing  a  certain  sound  in  French  must 
also  represent  the  same  in  other  languages.  The  pronunci- 
ation in  many  cases  is  wholly  his  own. 

Examples :  Harrison — prison ;  f  eal — White-Hall ;  banc — St.- 
Albans;  Stachan — camp;  pardon — Huntingdon:  De  Manning 
— du  cinq;  effort — Clifford;  remplis — Willis;  Cheapside — 
regicide;  Glascow — au  cou;  Hobbe — aube;  corset — water-clos- 
et; voyou — I  love  you;  ad  hoc — Grammadoch;  des  abus — 
codicibus;  corrompus — habeas  corpus;  dechus — Jean  Huss; 
taureau — Yungfrau;  Eigi — rugi,  etc. 

3.  In  his  earlier  volumes  there  occur  very  few  cases  of 
overflow  in  which  the  rhyme  has  been  weakened  by  the 
grammatical  construction. 

Examples:  (noun  in  rhyme  followed  in  the  next  line  by 
preposition  plus  noun)  l'enthousiasme  .  .  .  Du  peuple;  quel 
formidable  .  .  .  Epanouissement ;  dans  un  arrangement  .  .  . 
De  famille;  (modal  auxiliary  plus  infinitive,  or  auxiliary 
plus  past  participle)  a  pu  .  .  .  parler;  peut-on  .  .  .  con- 
server;  ne  veut  etre  .  .  .  dit. 

In  such  works  as  the  Legende  des  Siecles,  which  have 
always  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  perfect  in  classical 
structure,  there  are  about  six  per  cent,  of  such  lines.  When- 
ever these  occur  with  any  frequency  they  are  accompanied 
by  a  large  percentage  of  romantic  lines.  The  table  of 
statistics  will  show  the  relative  frequency. 

4.  Victor  Hugo  apparently  did  not  guard  against  rhymes 
at  the  hemistich  in  any  period  of  his  career.  He  strictly 
followed  the  rules  of  the  hemistich  or  cesura.  I  have  found 
no  case  of  mute  e  at  the  hemistich.  Such  words  as :  si,  une, 
jusqu'a,  il,  Us,  vous,  nous  (as  subject  or  object),  est,  etc.,  are 
found  occasionally. 

5.  In  proportion  as  Victor  Hugo  became  adept  in  writing 
Alexandrines  and  in  marshalling  words,  and  more  busy  with 
the  thought  expressed  (usually  personal  opinions)  than  with 


3]  victor  Hugo's  versification  211 

the  technique  of  his  verse,  he  became  more  and  more  negligent. 
This  is  noticeable : 

a.  In  the  large  number  of  purely  prose  passages;  e.  g., 
Legende,  iv,  p.  226,  pp.  248-251; 

b.  In  the  large  number  of  lines  in  which  the  cacophony 
is  more  or  less  shocking;  e.  g.,  Annees  Funestes,  p.  104: 

II  eut  reforge"   Rome;    il  eut  mele  l'exemple 

Du  vieux  s6pulcre  avec   l'exemple  du  vieux  temple. 

c.  In  the  lines  in  which  the  grammar  is  twisted  to  fit  the 
technical  demands :  e.  g.,  Theatre  en  Liberie,  p.  98 : 

II  faut  qu'elle  soit  haute  assez  pour   sa  voiture. 
Ah!   quand  il  s'agit,  l'homme  etant  aux  vents  jete\ 

d.  Beginning  with  his  Legende  Victor  Hugo  creates,  in- 
vents, or  introduces  a  line  which  seems  to  be  unique  in  French 
verse,  a  line  which  it  is  difficult  to  define,  but  in  which  the 
noun  or  adjective  at  the  hemistich  is  immediately  followed 
by  its  adjective  or  noun;  a  line  which  invariably  describes 
something  mysterious,  terrible,  tragic,  monstrous,  or  gloomy; 
e.  g.: 

Et    la    difformite"    sublime    des    dgcombres. 
L'inhospitalite"   sinistre  du  fond  noir. 
O   semeur    du    sillon    nebuleux,    laboureur 
Perdu  dans   la   fum6e  horrible  de  l'erreur. 
Quoique  I'imp6n6trable  6nigme  le  vgtisse. 

Such  lines  are  found  in  large  numbers  in  his  later  works. 
This  style  of  line  in  its  development  has  been  of  unusual 
interest. 

6.  In  studying  Victor  Hugo's  poetry  with  the  object  of 
determining  the  frequency  of  his  use  of  the  romantic  line, 
much  depends  upon  the  individual  interpretation.  The 
writer  has  taken  the  following  stand :  no  line  has  been  classed 
or  scanned  as  a  romantic  line  if  it  is  found  in  classical  verse 
with  any  degree  of  frequency.  By  this  method  it  has  been 
possible  to  determine  the  real  status  of  the  romantic  line  in 


212 


THIEME 


[4 


Victor  Hugo.     An  exhaustive  scheme  of  elimination  has  been 
devised  to  make  this  feasible. 

The  appended  table  shows  the  works  in  chronological  order, 
with  the  number  of  Alexandrines  in  each  volume,  the  number 
of  romantic  lines  with  percentage  for  each  work,  and  the 
number  of  cases  of  close  overflow  (defined  above  in  §  3). 
The  second  table  gives  the  same  data  with  distribution 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  works :  drama,  lyric  poetry, 
satire,  etc.  A  detailed  discussion,  accompanied  by  full  refer- 
ences, of  the  points  so  far  brought  up,  will  shortly  follow 
the   present   study. 

TABLE  I. 


Name.                        No.  of  Lines.  Romantic.  % 

Odes    et    Ballades 3800  41  .01 

Cromwell    6260  322  .05 

Orientales    1550  52  .04 

Hernani    > 2166  185  .08 

Feuilles    d'Automne 2065  77  .03 

Roi    S'Amuse 1662  113  .06 

Chants   du   Crep 2219  79  .03 

Esmeralda     112  4  .03 

Voix    Inter 2048  103  .05 

Marion  de  Lorme 2025  141  .06 

Buy    Bias 2250  168  .07 

Rayons   et  Ombres 2444  78  .03 

Burgraves     1885  115  .06 

Chatiments     5167  280  .05 

Contemplations    1 3370  173  .05 

II 4430  179  .04 

Legendes  des  S.  1 5400  359  .06 

Paris  826  33  .04 

Actcs   et   Paroles   '70-71..  411  17  .04 

'71-76..  240  20  .08 

Annee    Terrible 6050  325  .05 

Legende  des   S.   II 7000  242  .03 

III 4600  212  .04 

Religions.     L'Ane    4500  185  .04 

Art  d'Etre  Gr.-Pere 3120  162  .05 


Close 
Overflow. 


7 

4 

33 

6 

21 

16 

14 

117 

94 

34 

80 

141 

127 

39 

189 

16 

2 

3 

63 

62 

39 

60 

45 


5] 


victor  Hugo's  versification 


213 


Quatre  Vents  de  1'Es.  I. 
"    II. 

Torquemada    

Legende  des  S.  IV 

Theatre   en    Liberte 

Annees    Funestes 

Dieu    

Jumeaux    

Toute  la  Lyre  I 

"     II 

"     III 

Fin    de    Satan 

Pape.  Pitie  Supr 

Total, 


4100 
2550 
2150 
5300 
3800 
2600 
5100 
1450 
3650 
2550 
2600 
5300 
3050 


160 

89 

94 

303 

266 

190 

345 

32 

226 

161 

197 

335 

213 


.03 
.04 
.04 
.05 
.07 
.07 
.06 
.03 
.06 
.07 
.07 
.06 
.06 


79 
21 
53 
137 
85 
50 
66 
16 
31 
33 
35 
62 
34 


119,800  6198 


.05 


1814 


.01 


TABLE  II. 


Lyric. 

Name.  No.  of  Lines. 

Odes  et  Ballades 3800 

Orientales    1550 

Feuilles   d'Aut 2065 

Chants   du   Crep 2219 

Voix    Inter 2048 

Rayons   et   Om 2444 

Contempl.    1 3370 

II 4430 

Legende,  1 5400 

"       II - 7000 

"       III 4600 

Art  d'Etre  Gr.-Pere 3120 

Quatre   Vents   1 4100 

"       II 2550 

Legende,    IV 5300 

Toute  la  Lyre,  1 3650 

"     "       "       II 2550 

"     "       "       III 2600 

Fin   de   Satan 5300 

Total    68,096 


Soman  ti< 

c-     % 

Close 
Overflow. 

% 

41 

.01 

52 

.04 

4 

.003 

77 

.03 

6 

.002 

79 

.03 

16 

.007 

103 

.05 

14 

.006 

78 

.03 

34 

.01 

173 

.05 

127 

.03 

179 

.05 

39 

.008 

359 

.06 

189 

.03 

242 

.03 

62 

.009 

212 

.04 

39 

.008 

162 

.05 

45 

.01 

160 

.03 

79 

.01 

89 

.04 

21 

.008 

303 

.05 

137 

.02 

226 

.06 

31 

.008 

161 

.07 

33 

.01 

197 

.07 

35 

.01 

335 

.06 

62 

.01 

3228 


.047         973 


.01 


214 


THIEME 


[6 


Drama. 


Cromwell    6260  312 

Hernani    2166  185 

Eoi  S' Amuse 1662  113 

Esmeralda    112  4 

Marion  de  L 2025  141 

Buy  Bias 2250  168 

Burgraves     1885  115 

Torquemada     2150  94 

Theatre  en  Lib 3800  266 

Jumeaux    1450  32 

Total   23760  1430 

Satiric,  etc. 

i 

Chatiments     5167  280 

Paris  826  33 

Religions.     L'Ane     4500  185 

Actes  et  P 411  17 

"   240  20 

Annee  Ter 6050  325 

Annees   Fun 2600  190 

Dieu    5100  345 

Pape.  Pitie"   S 3050  213 

Total     27,930  1708 


.05 

7 

.001 

.08 

33 

.01 

.06 

21 

.01 

.03 

.06 

117 

.05 

.07 

94 

.04 

.06 

80 

.04 

.04 

53 

.02 

.07 

85 

.02 

.03 

16 

.01 

.06 


506 


.02 


.05 

141 

.02 

.04 

16 

.01 

.04 

60 

.01 

.04 

2 

.004 

.08 

3 

.01 

.05 

63 

.01 

.07 

50 

.02 

.06 

66 

.01 

.06 

34 

.01 

.06 


435 


.01 


Verse   Measure. 


As  far  as  the  writer  has  been  able  to  ascertain  no  attention 
has  heretofore  been  called  to  the  occurrence  of  lines  of  13, 
11,  or  10  syllables  in  Victor  Hugo's  Alexandrines.  In  the 
Hetzel  edition  there  are  a  considerable  number  of  printer's 
errors  and  some  of  these  give  lines  of  13  or  11  syllables.  In 
the  Edition  de  l'Imprimerie  Rationale  some  of  these  errors 
have  been  corrected  or  changed,  but  unfortunately  without 
a  statement  of  the  authority.     But,  apart  from  these  typo- 


7]  victor  Hugo's  versification  215 

graphical  variations,  there  are  a  number  of  irregular  verses 
attributable  to  Victor  Hugo. 


I.    Thirteen    Syllable   Lines. 
A.     Assured  cases. 

In  the  following  lines  there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  as  to 
thirteen  syllables: 

1.  Cromwell,  Acte  II,  Scene  x,  p.  132: 

Surtout  ne  m'interromps  pas! 

Tous   ces   airs-la,  mon  cher. 

2.  Legende,  I,  Aymerillot,  p.  225 : 

Comte,  ce  bon   due  Naymes  expire  do  vieillesse.1 

3.  Theatre  en  Liberie,  L'Epee,  fin  de  la  Scene  n;  in,  p. 

78-79 : 

Slagistri ! 

L'homme  a  le  droit  de  toucher  au  cadran. 

4.  Dieu,  L'Ange,  p.  188 : 

Brigands  que  la  nuit  cache  dans  son  vaste  recel. 

5.  Pitie  Supreme,  vm,  p.  123 : 

Les  maudits  ont  besoin  de  tStes  inclinees 

Sur  eux,   sur  leurs  mysteres  et  sur   leurs  destinees.2 

1  Naymes  occurs  in   two  other  lines  and   in  both  cases  the  s  is 
retained.     The  line  reads  the  same  in  the  Imp.  Nat.  edition. 

2  Compare,    in    this    connection :    Toute    la    Lyre,    in,    La    Corde 
d'Avrain,  vin,  p.   156: 

Dgsirant  tuer   seulement  qui   leur   deplatt. 
This  poem  was  written  in  1871  and  the  line  which  is   probably 
the   first  example   of   an  overflowing   or   run-over   cesura   found   in 


216  THIEME  [8 

B.     Lines  corrected  in  the  Edition  de  I'Imprim.  Nat. 

1.  Les  Contemplations,  i,  La  Tie  aux  Champs,  p.  18: 

Mais  le  doux  rire  honnSte  ouvrant  bouches  et  occurs, 
Qui  montren£  en  m6me  temps  des  ames  et  des  perles.* 

2.  Legende,  n,  Les  Quatre  Jours  d'Elciis,  p.  230: 

Done,  viatique,  psauwies  et  vSpres,  scapulaires.* 

3.  Legende,  in,  La  Rose  de  Vlnfante,  p.  46: 

Et  le  lugubre  roi  sourit  de  voir  groupees 

Sur  quatre  cents  navires  quatrevingt  mille  epees.5 

C.     Doubtful  Cases. 

1.  In  the  following  line  ruine  must  be  counted  as  dis- 
syllabic. The  word  occurs  more  than  fifty  times  and  in 
every  other  case  is  trisyllabic. 

Les  Rayons  et  les  Ombres,  Le  7  Aout  1829,  p.  29 : 
O  palais,  sois  beni,  soyez  b6nie,  6  ruine.* 

French  poetry,  has  undoubtedly  served  as  a  type  for  the  many  lines 
of  the  same  structure  found  in  de  Banville  and  Verlaine.  It  has 
the  required   number   of  syllables. 

8  Imp.    Nat.    montre.  *  Imp.   Nat.    psaume. 

6  Imp.  Nat.  vaissauw. 

•In  the  same  work,  pp.  27,  45,  202,  212,  223: 

Helas,  s'attache  aux  rois  comme  a  toute  ruine. 
Car  la  ruine  m6me  autour  de  sa  tristesse. 
Sent  qu'il  n'est  deja  plus  qu'une  tombe  en  ruine. 
Le  nid  qui  jase  au  fond  du  cloitre  ruine\ 
Cette  mousse  qui   pend  aux  siecles   ruinfis. 

Les  Burgraves,  p.  88,  98: 

Vas-tu,  sur  ce  donjon  que  tu  dois  ruiner. 

Sont  disperses  sans  doute  au  vent  de  ma  ruine. 


9]  victor  Hugo's  versification  217 

2.  In  the  following  line  "  pion  "  is  used  as  a  monosyllable. 
Nouns  in  -ion  are  elsewhere  dissyllabic. 

Art  d'Etre  Grand-pere,  Aux  Enfants  Gates,  p.  170: 
Quand,  ainsi  qu'on  remue  un  pion  sur  l'gchiquier. 

3.  The  following  lines,  if  read  according  to  the  text,  con- 
tain thirteen  syllables,  but  in  each  a  slight  change  gives  the 
required  number  of  syllables:  ' 

Chants  du  Crepuscule,  p.  Ill : 

Vent  fatal  qui  eonfond  les  meilleures  et  les  pires.T 
Esmeralda,  p.  158 : 

Enfants!   pas  de  querelles,  aujourd'hui  tout  est  joie.8 

Buy  Bias,  p.  167: 

Rien!    pas    d'armes!     Une    6p6e    au    moins!     Marquis    tu 
railles.9 

Les  Bayons  et  les  Ombres,  p.  159 : 

Par  eux-m§mes  amene"  dans  1'orniere  ou  nous  sommes.10 


La  Ltgende,  I,  p.  279,  285: 

Je  sois  vaincu,  d6truit,  aboli,  ruine\ 

La  ruine  est  promise  a  tout  ee  qui  s'6leve. 

Other  examples  may  be  found  as  follows,  all  showing  the  dis- 
syllabic use  of  ruine: 

Paris,  pp.  138,  144-6-7-8-9,  152,  161.  Amite  Terrible,  pp.  107,  131, 
252,  262-3,  281.  Ltgende,  n,  pp.  59,  67,  153,  168,  285;  in,  pp.  21, 
47,  82,  241.  Religions,  pp.  99,  110.  Art  d'Etre  Grand-pere,  p.  72. 
Quatre  Vents,  I,  pp.  192,  256;  II,  pp.  11,  220,  237.  Jumeaux,  pp. 
162,  184,  193,  240.  Anntes  Funestes,  pp.  6,  169.  Ltgende,  Vf,  p. 
55.  Theatre  en  LiberU,  p.  178.  Toute  la  Lyre,  I,  pp.  48,  147,  243; 
n,  pp.  80,  191. 

T  Read  meilleurs.  *  Read  querelle. 

•Read  arme. 

M  eux-mime ;    the    same    change    in    Toute    la    Lyre,    I,    p.    207: 

D'ouvrir  la  porte  eux-m6me(s)   aux  coleres  en  bas. 


218  THIEME  [10 

Legende,  m,  p.  200: 

Aiguilles,  pics  de  nei^es  et  cimes   souveraines." 

II.     Eleven-Syllable  Lines. 
A.   Assured  Cases. 

1.  Esmeralda,  Acte  IV,  Scene  I,  p.  180; 

Etes-vous    prete  ? 

A  quoi? 

Prfite  a  mourir. 

Oui. 

2.  Les  Contemplations,  l,  A  propos  d'Horace,  p.  41: 

Ces  diacres,  ces  bedeaux  dont  le  groin  renifle. 

3.  Religions,  Conclusion,  p.  71 : 

Qui  n'est  pas  lui,  m'indigne,  et  n'a  pas  droit  d'etre. 

4.  Torquemada,  Acte  II,  Scene  n,  p.  122: 

Et  madame,  aux  pieds  de  vos  altesses.     Soit. 

5.  Les  Annees  Funestes,  xxxiii,  p.  88 : 

Le  monde,  ainsi  aux  temps  de  Claude  et  Comene. 

B.    Lines  corrected  in  the  Edition  de   VImprim.  Nat. 

1.  Marion  de  Lorme,  Acte  V,  Scene  vn,  p.  189 : 

Avoir  fait  ton  malheur,  va,  e'est  un  grand  remord. 
Ne  me  laisse  pas,  pardonne-moi,  Marie !  a 

2.  La  Legende,  I,  Montfaucon,  p.  171: 

Quel   est  le  moyen  de   regner?  dit   Philippe.1* 

11  Read  neige. 

■  Imp.  Nat.  ^e  me  le  laisse  pas. 

a  Imp.   Nat.    Quel   est   le   moyen   done.     Victor   Hugo   never   used 
moyen  except  as  a  word  of  two  syllables. 


11]  victor  Hugo's  versification  219 

C.     Doubtful  Cases. 

1.  Legende,  ii,  Welf,  p.  201 : 

Ouvre-moi.     Je  suis  roi  d'Arle  aux  verts  coteaux." 

2.  Legende,  n,  Les  Catastrophes,  p.  241 : 

Seule  utile  lueur  qui  sort  du  despote.15 

III.     Ten-Syllable  Lines. 

The  following  two  ten-syllable  lines  are  found  in  L'Art 
d'Etre  Grand-pere: 

1.  L'Art  d'Etre  Grand-pere:  Printemps,  p.  24: 

J'entends  dans  le  jardin  les  enfants  rire. 

2.  L'Art  d'Etre  Grand-pere:  Un  Manque/ p.  27: 

Dans  l'admiration  de  ces  jolis  doigts  roses, 
Leur  compare,  en  toutes  sortes  de  choses, 
Ses    grosses   mains   a   lui.  .  .  . 

IV.    Words  used  as  Monosyllables  or  Dissyllables. 

A.  Such  words  as  hier,  diable  have  always  been  used  by 
poets  both  as  monosyllables  and  as  dissyllables.  The  follow- 
ing words  have  generally  a  definite  value,  but  in  Victor  Hugo 
they  are  found  as  monosyllables  or  dissyllables : 

1.    "aout." 

Le  quatorze  juillet,  le  dix  aout,  ces  journees    (1), 

Actes  (1871-76),  p.  82. 

"Arle  may  be  written  Aries,  e.  g.,  p.  202: 

Aries  t'attend.     Je  t'offre  en  ma  ville  latine. 
15  The  subjunctive  "  sorte  "  is  undoubtedly  the  correct  form  and  is 
the  one  found  in  the  Ed.  de  l'lmp.  Nat. 


220  THIEME  [12 

Or,  en  juin,  la  Lusace,  en  aout,  les  Moraves  (2), 

L6gende,  ii,  p.  66. 

C'etait  le  sept  aout,   6  sombre   destinee!  (2), 

Les  Rayons,  p.  23. 

2.  "Juan." 

Et  voila  que  don  Juan  pStrifie"  palit    (1), 

Contemplations,  I,  p.  29. 
D'Eve  au  clottre,  et  que  fuir  don  Juan  dans  Origene  (1), 

•  Religions,   p.    113. 

Fait   tout©   la   grandeur    de    don    Juan    athee  (2), 

Quatre  Vents,  n,  p.  194. 
Et   don  Juan! — C'est  Dante  et  Beatrix! — Le   lierre  (2), 

Ligende,  iv,  p.  20. 

3.  "  jaguar." 

Le   mandrille   au   jaguar,   le   perroquet  a   l'aigle  (1), 

Art  d'Etre  .  .  .  ,  p.  47. 
Aux   jaguars,   aux   lynx,   aux   tigres   des   forgts  (2), 

Ligende,  H,  p.  224. 

4.  "  miasme." 

Comment  le  parfum  pur  devint  miasme  f6tide  (1), 

L6gende,  in,  p.  16. 
Mgle"  dans  leur  s€pulcre  au  miasme  insalubre  (2),       lb.,  p.  116. 

5.  "moelle." 

Trouve  peu  d'os   a  moelle  et  peu  d'auteurs   a  seve  (1), 

Religions,   p.    103. 
Le  sang  pro  fond  du  coeur,   la  moelle   des  os  (2), 

Ann4e  Terrible,  p.  241. 

6.  "  ruisseau." 

Oc6an   aux  ruisseaux  et   soleil   aux   planetes  (1), 

Annte  Ter.,  p.   190. 

Comme  au  sombre  ocean  arrive  tout  ruisseau  (1), 

LSgende,  iv,  p.   125. 

Comme  un  ruisseau  vil  est  pire  qu'un  torrent  (2), 

Annie  Ter.,  p.  25. 

B.     Trisyllabic  words  used  as  dissyllables: 
1.    "  luncheon." 

Devant  les  grecs  faisant,  dans   un   luncheon  nocturne, 

Religions,  p.  28. 


13]  victor  Hugo's  versification  221 

2.    "  prairials." 

Apres  ces  messidors,  ces  prairials,  ces  frimaires, 

Chdtiments,  p.  117. 


V.    Hiatus    (Mute   e  -J-  oui  or  a   Vowel). 

In  the  following  list  of  examples  it  will  readily  be  seen 
from  the  variety  of  cases  that  mute  e  -J-  oui  or  a  vowel  counts 
as  one  or  two  syllables. 

A.     Mute  e  -(-  oui  =  two  syllables. 

Monsieur!  Wilmot  devrait  mourir  de  honte,  oui,  Cromwell,  p.  68. 
Une  aureole.     Oui,  de  la  couleur  du  sang,  76.,  p.  253. 

Comment  as-tu  besoin  qu'on  te  rgponde:  oui?  76.,  p.  286. 

Qui  n'ose  dire  non  et  ne  peut  dire  oui,  Voix  lntir.,  p.  187. 

Libre?     Oui  .  .  .  Prenez-moi  pour  frere,  pour  appui, 

Marion  de  Lorme,  p.  15. 
Ah!  malheureuse.     Oui,  malheureuse,  en  effet,  lb.,  p.  110. 

Soyons  l'immense  Oui    (6  syl.  line),  Contemplations,  II,  p.   160. 

Entendra  ce  tombeau  dire  a  voix  haute:  Oui,  Ann&e  Terrible,  p.  13. 
Tu  viens   d'incendier   la   Bibliotheque  ?     Oui.  76.,   p.   220. 

Non  aux  basques  de  Oui  toujours  se  suspendit,  Religions,  p.  159. 
lTn  petit  prince  est-il  un  petit  homme?     Oui. 

Art  d'Etre  Grand-pere,  p.  159. 
Etes-vous  sombre?     Oui,  vous  l'etes    (8  syl.  line),  lb.,  p.  176. 

Qui  pourrait  dire  non?  Qui  pourrait  dire  Oui,  Quatre  Vents,  p.  211. 
Vraiment?  Connaissez-vous  son  ecriture?  Oui,  Jumeaux,  p.  186-7. 
Suis-je  un  homme?     Ai-je  un  nom?     Seul  je  peux  dire  Oui, 

76.,  p.  221. 
C'est  qu'on  me  pilera  sans  que  je  dise  Oui  76.,  p.  224. 

Xotre  voisine?  Oui.  Va  cliez  elle.  Avec  toi,  L4gende,  ni,  p.  199. 
Ici,  spectre !  Viens  la  que  je  te  parle.  Oui,  Annies  Funestes,  p.  28. 
Dieu  vit.     Le  Oui  du  jour  et  le  Non  de  la  nuit,  Dieu,  p.  171. 

Du  vrai,   le  oui   du   non,   le  rayon   de   la  foudre, 

Toute  la  Lyre,  I,  p.  266. 
Dieu!     Rfrve!     Oui  finit  par  ressembler  a  non,  76.,  in,  p.  123. 

11  se  dit  par  moments:  C'est  moi  qui  marche;  oui,      76.,  ni,  p.  200. 


222  THIEME  [14 


B.     Mute   e  -f-  oui  =  one   syllable. 

De  l'apocalypse.  Oui.  Cromwell  sur  notre  tete,  Cromwell,  p.  345. 
Dona    Sol    de    Silva?     parle.     Oui. — Pourquoi?     Pour    rien, 

Hernani,  p.  12. 
Vous  etes  done  le  diable?  Oui,  duegne.  Entrez  ici,  lb.,  p.  14. 
O   Marion   de   Lorme!     Oui!     La   beauts   du   jour, 

Marion  de  Lorme,  p.  27. 
II  est  temps  de  dormir,  madame,  Oui,  e'est  notre  heure,  lb.,  p.  33. 
Deux  mots.     A  l'6p6e?     Oui.     Veux-tu  le  pistolet,  lb.,  p.  46. 

De  renoncer  au  duel?  Mais  e'est  tres  sage.  Oui,  mais,  lb.,  p.  52. 
II  fait  grace?     Oui,  le  roi.     Mais  non  le  cardinal,  lb.,  p.  62. 

De  la  Rochelle.  Oui,  da!  J'approuve  le  saint  sifege,  lb.,  p.  123. 
Je  vous  la  rends.  Vraiment!  une  6pee!  Oui,  ma  foi,  lb.,  p.  150. 
Ma    femme!     Oui,    votre    femme!     Allons,    je    n'en    suis    pas, 

Ruy  Bias,  p.  144. 
Ma  joie!  Oui,  je  saurai  terminer  mon  courage,  Bur  graves,  p.  67. 
C'est  horrible,  oui,  brigand,  jacobin,  malandrin,  Contempl.,  I,  p.  67. 
De  charrue?     Oui,  je  veux  creuser  le  noir  limon,  lb.,  p.  202. 

Voila  ce  que  m'offrit  l'histoire.  Oui,  c'est  cruel,  lb.,  ii,  p.  59. 
Bonhomme. — Oui,  je  sais   bien,   parce   que  j'ai   des   membres, 

Lfyende,   I,   p.   72. 
Et  ces  dieux  ont  raison.     Phtos  ecume.     Oui,  dit-il,  lb.,  p.  87. 

Pretre!  Oui,  je  suis  a  thee  a  ce  vieux  bon  Dieu-la,  Annee  Ter.,  p.  68. 
Dit   Jorge.     Oui,    s'il   revient?    dit   Materno    l'Hyene, 

Legende,  n,  p.  37. 
Un  pauvre  oui.     Jamais  roi  dans  sa  coupe  ne  but,  lb.,  p.  196. 

Dit  l'ane.    Oui.    C'est  mon  nom  et  je  l'ai  merits,     Religions,  p.  79.18 


C.     Miscellaneous  Examples. 

Chassons-le/     Arriere  tous!   il  faut  que  j'entretienne, 

Cromwell,  p.  129. 

Puisqu'il  s'agit  de  hache  ici,  que  .Hernani,  Hernani,  p.  172. 

Votre  pere  .Henri,  de  mgmoire  royale,  Marion,  p.  136. 

Qu'apres  tout  on  est  fils  d'.Henri  quatre,  et  Bourbon,       Id.,  p.  137. 


"  Further  examples  may  be  found  as  follows :  Quatre  Vents,  pp. 
181,  196,  207,  242,  243,  250;  Torquemada,  20,  26,  33,  152;  Jumeaux, 
218,  222;  Theatre  en  LiberU,  34,  61,  88,  130,  137,  167,  180,  214; 
Annees  Funestes,  57,  67,  110;  Dieu,  178. 


15]  victor  Hugo's  versification  223 

Ce   Gaspard?     Ce   Didier?     Je  crois   qw'oui.     Les   derniers, 

Marion,  p.   146. 
Ciel!     Qu'as-tu   r6pondu?     J'ai    dit   que    oui,    mon   mattre, 

Ruy  Bias,  p.  150. 
O  libre  i/offmann,  planant  dans  les  r§ves  fougueux, 

Religions,  p.  118. 

VI.    Que  and  ce  in  Stressed  Position. 

Aside  from  these  irregularities  or  licenses  which  have  done 
so  much  to  pave  the  way  for  the  modern  tendencies  in  French 
verse,  there  are  lines  which  pointed  out  to  the  younger  poets 
new  possibilities  in  the  division  of  the  Alexandrine.  The 
romantic  divisions  of  which  444,  453,  345,  534  are  the  most 
common,  are  now  well  known  and  practised,  more  or  less, 
by  all  poets. 

To  place  a  mute  e  in  the  stress  or  "  coupe,"  thus  giving  it 
the  value  of  any  other  vowel,  had  not  been  done  before. 
Thus,  when  we  meet  lines  in  which  "  que  "  or  "  ce  "  are  in 
a  stressed  position,  we  have  practically  every  liberty  demanded 
by  modern  poets.  The  Alexandrine  is  now  reduced  to  twelve 
syllables  with  no  restriction  in  the  interior  of  the  line.  The 
following  lines  are  very  unusual  and  interesting  from  the 
technical  structural  point  of  view: 

C'est  qu'il  est  un  des  coeurs  que,  d6ja  sous  les  cieux, 

Voix  Inter.,  p.  137. 
H6las!  de  quelque  nom  que,  broy6  sous  l'essieux,  lb.,  p.  220. 

N'est-ce  done  pas  assez  que,  soldats  et  finance,  Marion,  p.  45. 

Sur  ce,  faisons  la  soupe,  et  repassons  nos  rOles,  lb.,  p.  80. 

Un  des  jeunes  seigneurs  que,  de  cette  fengtre,  Ruy  Bias,  p.  34. 

A  la  reine.     Un  seigneur  que,  de  la  part  du  roi,  76.,  p.  67. 

Donne  done  a  ta  ville,  ami,  ce  grand  exemple 
Que,  si  les  marchands  vils  n'entrent  pas  dans  le  temple, 

Rayons,  p.  132. 
Pour  que,  puisant  la  vie  au  grand  centre  commun,  lb.,  p.  172. 

Que,  l'epee  a  la  main,  seul,  brisant  une  porte,  Burgraves,  p.  88. 
Magistrats!  maintenant  que,  reprenant  du  cceur,  Chdtiments,  p.  15. 
Va,  maudit!  ce  boulet  que,  dans  les  temps  stoiques,  lb.,  p.  34. 
Sur  ce,  les  charlatans  prfichent  leur  auditoire,  76.,  p.  274. 


224  THIEME  [16 

Fremissent.     C'est  ainsi   que,  paisible  et  euperbe,  lb.,  p.   318. 

Et,  sur  ce,  les  pedants  en  chceur  disent:  amen,        Contempl.,  i,  p.  66. 
Ces  hydres  que,  le  jour,  on  appelle  des  arbres,  lb.,  n,  p.  151. 

Depuis  quatre  mille  ans  que,  courbe'  sous  la  baine,     lb.,  II,  p.  190. 
Du  parapluie,  afin  que,  s'il  tombe  trop  d'eau,  Quatre  Vents,  i,  p.  206. 

When  we  consider  the  number  of  Alexandrines  written  by 
Victor  Hugo  and  the  conditions  under  which  he  often  wrote, 
as  well  the  nature  of  the  subjects,  and  note  from  the  table 
of  statistics  the  relative  rarity  of  irregularities,  we  realize 
that  his  technical  art  was  and  will  remain  the  model  for  the 
French  poets  of  the  future. 


NOTES  ON  THE  ETYMOLOGY  OF  "BACHELIER" 

BY 

William  A.  Stowell 


Bachelier,  Old  French  bacheler,  is  usually  supposed  to 
go  back  to  a  Folk-Latin  baccalaris,  of  which  I  know  no 
occurrence.  There  are,  however,  in  South-French  cartularies, 
numerous  examples  of  a  form  baccalarius,  a  term  applied  to 
certain  peasants,  and  of  a  form  baccalaria,  referring  to  a 
kind  of  landed  tenure.  Scheler's  suggestion  x  that  bachelier 
may  perhaps  be  related  to  Latin  vacca  through  a  derived  form 
applied  to  property  connected  in  some  way  with  cattle  has  not 
met  with  general  acceptance,  on  account  both  of  the  phonetic 
obstacle  offered  by  the  initial  sound  of  the  word,  and  of  the 
absence  of  a  demonstration  of  the  semasiological  filiation; 
yet  no  other  etymon  has  been  proposed  which  offers  greater 
claims  to  favor,  so  that  the  general  opinion  of  scholars  seems 
to  accord  with  the  statement  of  the  Dictionnaire  general 2 
that  the  origin  of  the  word  is  uncertain.  It  may  therefore 
be  useful  to  assemble  the  examples  of  the  Latin  words,  and 

1  Diet,  d'e"tymologie  fr.,  s.  v.  bachelier.  This  derivation  is  already 
proposed  in  the  first  edition  (1862),  and  is  still  maintained  in  the 
third  (1888)  ;  it  is  referred  to  by  Murray,  2V.  E.  D.,  s.  v.  bachelor. 
Korting,  in  the  third  edition  of  his  Worterbuch  den  rom.  Spr. 
(1907),  no.  1134,  still  looks  on  this  etymology  as  at  best  a  pis 
alter,  but  in  the  Worterbuch  der  frz.  Spr.  (1908),  s.  v.  bachelier, 
he  has  adopted  it,  and  posits  for  baccalarius  the  successive  mean- 
ings: owner,  of  a  cow;  small  peasant  proprietor;  young  peasant; 
youth. 

2  8.  v.  bachelier.  Those  who  have  made  serious  attempts  to  ex- 
plain the  word  without  recurring  to  vacca  would  connect  it  with 
the  Celtic,  but  no  satisfactory  Celtic  etymon  has  been  suggested. 
See  Thurneysen,  Keltoromanisches,  Halle,   1884,  pp.  38-39. 

1]  225 

15 


226  STOWELL  [2 

to  see  whether  the  context  and  the  geographical  distribution 
of  the  material  cast  any  light  on  their  disputed  meanings 
and  on  their  possible  connection  with  bachelier. 

So  far  as  I  know,  the  list  which  follows  includes  all  ex- 
amples that  have  been  found  of  baccalaria  (a  tenure),  and 
examples  of  baccalarius,  baccalaria  (adjective  or  substantive 
used  of  persons)  from  the  only  texts  known  to  contain  the 
word.  The  passages  preceded  by  an  asterisk  have  not  to  my 
knowledge  been  previously  referred  to  in  this  connection.3 

I.     Baccalaria,  a   Form  of   Feudal   Eeal-Estate 

( 1 )  Ego,  Godefredus,  .  .  .  comes,  .  .  .  cedo  ...  ad  monasterium 
.  .  .  curtem  meam  indominicatam,  quae  vocatur  Igeracus,  cum 
ecclesia  in  honore  S.  Martini  constructa,  et  baccalariis  indo- 
minicatis,  et  mansis  servilibus:  mansum  unum,  ubi  Ricuinus  manet, 
mansum   ubi    Ingilbertus    manet,   mansum   ubi    Ictarius   manet,    etc. 

Cartulaire  de  Beaulieu,  ch.  3,  p.  10  (A.  D.  866). 

(2)  Cedimus  .  .  .  ecclesiam  nostram  .  .  .  cum  ipsa  bacallaria 
.  .  .  et  cum  ipsa   vinea  quae  est  in   Blandina. 

Ibid.,  ch.  171,  p.  238    (A.  D.   877). 

(3)  Nos,  .  .  .  Sicardus  et  uxor  mea,  .  .  .  cedimus  .  .  .  ecclesiam 
nostram  .  .  .  cum  curte,  et  orto,  et  exitu,  et  viridario,  et  cum 
ipsa  baccalaria  integra  quae  ibidem  pertinent.  Et  .  .  .  ilium 
mansum  integrum  ubi  Bertemarus  servus  noster  visus  est  manere 
.  .  .  et  alium  integrum  mansum  ubi  Sicardus  visus  est  manere,  .  .  . 
Hos  mansos  constructos  cum  curtibus  et  ortis  et  exitibus,  cum 
viridariis,  cum  campis,  pratis,  pascuis,  adjacentiis,  silvis,  sepibus, 
cum  exitibus  et  regressibus,  viis,  aquis,  aquarumve  decursibus,  cultos 
sive  incultos  quaesitos  vel  quod  adquirendum  est,  omnia  et  ex 
omnibus,  quantumcumque  ad  ipsam  ecclesiam  una  cum  ipsa 
baccalaria,   et   ad    ipsos   mansos   adspicit  .  .  .  cedimus. 

Ibid.,  ch.  17,  p.  40   (A.  D.  879-884). 

(4)  Cedo  .  .  .  villam  meam,  .  .  .  cum  ipsa  bacallaria  seu 
cum  ipsis  mansis:  mansum  ubi  Golfardus  visus  est  manere;  mansum 
ubi  Garardus  manet,  etc. 

Ibid.,  ch.  152,  p.  210   (A.  D.  891). 

3  The  cartularies  referred  to  in  this  paper  have  all  been  published. 
Specific  references  to  the  editions  will  be  found  in  the  Bibliographie 
g6ne"rale  des  cartulaires  francais  par  Henri  Stein.     Paris,  1907. 


3]  NOTES   ON   "bachelier"  227 

(5)  Cedo  .  .  .  mans um  ubi  Ermenricus  manet,  cum  ipsa  vinea 
mea  dominicaria,  .  .  .  et  alium  mansum  ubi  Magnolenus  visus  est 
manere;  in.  eodem  loco  bacallaria  mea  indominicaria;  et  ipsi 
in  a  n -i   vel   ipsa  bacallaria  est  in   loco   quae  dicitur   Vadecia. 

Ibid.,  ch.  63,  p.  112   (A.  D.  893). 

(6)  Cedimus  .  .  .  ecclesiam  nostram  .  .  .  cum  ipsa  bacallaria, 
et  mansis  ad  ipsam  ecclesiam  pertinentibus :  mansum  ubi  Arlaldus 
visus  est  manere,  .  .  .  et  alium  mansum  ubi  Germanus  visus  est 
manere.  .  .  Cedimus  etiam  casam  nostram  dominicariam,  cum  ipsa 
bacallaria,  cum  pratis,  silvis,  molendinis,  etc. 

Ibid.,  ch.  52,  p.  95    (A.  D.  895). 

(7)  Cedo  .  .  .  curtem  meam  .  .  .  cum  casa  mea  dominicaria,  ubi 
ego  ipse  praesenti  tempore  visus  sum  manere,  cum  verdiariis  et 
pratis  dominicis,  et  cum  ipsa  bacallaria,  qui  est  in  pago  Limo- 
vicino,  et  .  .  .  mansum  ubi  Adalricus  visus  est  manere. 

Ibid.,  ch.  147,  p.  202   (A.  D.  916). 

(8)  Cedimus  ad  monasterium  .  .  .  capella  nostra,  quae  est  fun- 
data  in  honorem  S.  Petri,  cum  ipsa  baccalaria  indominicata,  cum 
ipso  prato,  et  cum  ipso  brolio  indominicato,  et  cum  ipso  manso  qui 
est  de  ipsa  capella,  ipsum  mansum  ubi  Avidus  visus  est  manere,  et 
alium  mansum  ubi  Benjamin  visus  est  manere,  .  .  .  et  alium  man- 
sum  ubi  Amardus  visus  est  manere,  ipsa  capella,  cum  ipsis  mansis 
supradictis,  cum  terris  cultis  et  incultis,  et  cum  ipsa  plantada, 
pratis,   silvis,  aquis,  etc. 

Ibid.,  ch.  38,  p.  72   (A.  D.  926). 

(9)  Cedimus  .  .  .  casam  indominicatam  ubi  ipse  Uguo  visus  fuit 
manere,  cum  ipso  bosco  vel  cum  alio  brolio,  cum  ipsa  bacallaria, 
cum  ipsis  vineis  prope  adhaerentibus,  cum  pratis,  aquis,  aquarumve 
decursibus,  cum  molendino,  cum  manso  ubi  Leoterius  manet;  et  alium 
mansum  quem  Ademarus  tenet. 

Ibid.,  ch.  109,  p.  162    (A.  D.  968). 

(10)  Baccalariam  meam  de  Camairaco  dimitto  Deo  .  .  .  ita 
ut  corpus  meam  sepeliatur,  si  ad  ipsum  locum  portatus   fuero. 

Ibid.,  ch.  95,  p.   148    (After  1000). 

(11)  Dimitto  .  .  .  medietatem  de  bacallaria  de  Monte  Catfredo. 

Ibid.,  ch.  62,  p.  Ill   (xi  or  xn  cy.). 

(12)  In  the  same  cartulary,  ch.  101  ("Brevem  de  exemptis  quae 
vicarii  de  Favars  habent  in  terra  S.  Petri " ) ,  the  concluding  passage 
is:  De  terris  vero  absis,  si  homo  adiquid  fecerit,  judex  recipiat 
quod  exierit,  et,  si  censum  solvere  voluerit  vicariis,  recipiant,  et,  si 
reddere   noluerit   censum,   reddit   illi3   tertiam   partem   de   hoc   quod 


228  STOWELL  [4 

de  terra  exitum  fuerit,  et  Beato  Petri  duas.  In  illis  rusticis  ubi 
quaerere  solent  opera,  habent  unam  diem  cum  bovibus  de  illis  homi- 
nibus  qui  boves  habuerint,  quamdiu  baccalariam  facer int,  et 
non  plus.  Si  battalia  aut  judicium  fermaverint  cum  aliquo,  et  si 
propter  hoc  redemptionem  dederint,  non  habeat  partem  vicarius  nee 
judex.  Si  sacramentum  fermaverint  cum  lege,  et  redemptionem 
dederint,  tertiam  partem  illis  reddant. 

Ibid.,  ch.   101,  p.   155    (xn  cy.). 

*(13)  Iste  Godafredus  comes,  Alius  Radulfi  comitis,  .  .  .  dedit 
.  .  .  villain  suam,  cum  ecclesia  S.  Martini,  cum  baccalariis,  et 
quinque  mansis  servilibus. 

Ibid.,  ch.   193,  p.  270    (Date:    ?). 

*(14)  Cedimus  .  .  .  tres  mansos  et  duas  bordarias  in  villa  .  .  . 
et  villam  nostram  quae  dicitur  Belna,  domum  scilicet  propriam, 
cum  baccalaria,  pratis. 

Cartulaire  de  Tulle,  ch.  124   (A.  D.  c925). 

(15)  Medietatem  de  ipsa  curte  et  ipsum  castellum,  cum  bacca- 
laria   dominicaria,   et   duos   mansos. 

Will  of  St.  Geraud  d'Aurillac;  Migne,  Pat.  Lat.,  exxxm,  col. 
672    (A.  D.  999). 

(16)  Breve  de  comunia  sancti  Salvatoris  de  Concas.  .  .  A  Bello- 
monte,  aecclesia  cum  mansos  xiiii  vel  cum  bacallarias. 

Cartulaire  de  Conques,  ch.  478   (xi  or  xn  cy.). 

(17)  Dono  quoque  in  villa  de  Belne  duos  mansos  .  .  .  cum  omni- 
bus que  ad  ipsos  mansos  pertinent:  sunt  etiam  due  appendarie 
cum  omnibus  que  ad  ipsos  respiciunt;  est  dimidia  appendaria  que 
vocatur  Trelia,  cum  omnibus  que  ad  ipsam  medietatem  respiciunt; 
dono  etiam  bacallariam  que  est  in  ipsa  villa,  cum  campis  et 
vineis  et  omnibus  que  ad  ipsum  abodum  pertinent. 

Cartulaire  de  Sauxillanges,  ch.  400  (Date:    ?).* 

*  In  certain  cartularies  (La)  Baccalaria  occurs  as  the  name  of  a 
place.  I  give  here  citations  from  every  text  in  which  I  have  found 
occurrences  of  this  use. 

*  ( 1 )  Galterius  de  La  Bachalaria  et  f rater  meus  Aimericus, 
d[amus]  dimidium  mansum  in  villa  La  Bachalaria.  (Foot-note: 
"La  Bachellerie,  26  habit.  Salon"). 

Cartulaire  d'Uzerche,  ch.  209    (x  cy.). 

*(2)  Petrus  de  Noalius  .  .  .  dedit  .  .  .  ,  in  manso  Petri  Radulfi 
de   la   Bachalaria,  quatuordecim   sextaria   siliginis,   quinque  avenae. 


5]  NOTES   ON  "bachelier"  229 

II.     Baccalarius,   Baccalaria,    Adjective    or    Substantive 
applied  to  Persons 

In  an  enumeration  of  the  domains  possessed  by  the  abbey 
of  St.  Victor  of  Marseilles,  made  during  the  bishopric  of 
Vuadalde,  813-818,  the  following  and  other  similar  mentions 
occur : 

( 1 )  Colonica  in  Campania.  Stephanus,  colonus.  Uxor  Dara. 
Dominicus,  filius  baccalarius.  Martina,  filia  baccalaria. 
Vera,  filia  annorum  XV.  Ermesindis,  filia  annorum  VII.  Aprilis, 
presbiter. 

Marseille:  Cartulaire  de  St. -Victor,  vol.  rr,  p.  633. 


(Cf.   p.   519,   Table  fr.,   which  says   that  this   is   La   Bachelerie   in 
St.-Germ.-les-Ver.) 

Ibid.,  ch.  998   (A.  D.  1096). 

*(3)  Damus  ...  in  villa  de  Chambaret  .  .  .  mansum  del  Chas- 
tenet  de  Fillis,  mansum  Donet  de  Cuus,  quartam  partem  de  vineis 
de  La  Bachelaria. 

Ibid.,  ch.  481    (A.  D.  cll07). 

*  ( 4 )  In  manso  La  Terrassa,  quinque  solidos ;  in  manso  La  Bacha- 
laria,  viginti  solidos.  (Cf.  p.  519,  Table  fr.,  which  says  that  this  is 
La   Bachelerie,    Salon. ) 

Ibid.,  ch.  1022  (cxm  cy.) 
*(5)    Geraldus     Stephanus     dedit  .  .  .  duodecim     denarios     quos 
dedit  Petrus  Aimoinius  in  manso  de  La  Baccalaria. 

Cartulaire  de  Tulle,  ch.  247   (A.  D.  cll04). 

*  (6)  Bordaria  Duranni  de  la  Grelleira,  in  martio,  IIII  den. 
Bordaria  della  Bachallaria.  Bordaria  della  Poncharia  Alegre,  in 
martio,  IIII  den.;  in  augusto,  I  sext.  vini,  et  asinum. 

Cartulaire  de  Vigeois,  ch.  162,  p.  118   (A.  D.  1108-1110). 

*(7)  Do  etiam  bordariam  de  La  Bachallaria  totum  quod  habeo 
vel  alii  per  me. 

Ibid.,  ch.    172    (A.   D.    1108-1110). 

*(8)  Excepta  bordaria  Stephani  Willelmi  quam  ipse  tenet  et 
bordaria  La  Bachallaria. 

Ibid.,  ch.  341   (A.  D.  1165-1171). 

*(9)    Froterius  .  .  .  dimisit  .  .  .  Ill  mansos  et  unam  bordariam 


230  STOWELL  [6 

(2)  Inibi,  colonica  in  Nono.  Gisefredus,  colonus.  Justinianus,  ad 
requirendum.  Murtesinda,  filia  baccalaria.  Donatus,  ad  requi- 
rendum.     Godobertus,  baccalarius. 

Ibid.,  p.    633. 

(3)  Colonica  in  Cenazello.  Dructaldus,  accola,  uxore  extranea. 
Dructomus,  filius.  Dutberta,  filia  baccalaria.  Drueterigus, 
Alius  ad  scola. 

Ibid.,  p.  637. 

(4)  Colonica  in  Asaler.  Candidus,  colonus.  Uxor  Dominica. 
Celsus,  filius,  ad  requirendum.  Mariberta,  filia  baccalaria  .  .  . 
Gennarius,  filius,  vervecarius. 

Ibid.,  p.  637. 

(5)  Colonica  inibi.  Colonus,  Martinus.  Uxor  Primovera.  Fe- 
licis,  filius  baccalarius.  Deidonus,  filius  baccalarius.  Leo- 
bertga,  filia  baccalaria.  Martina,  filia  annorum  V.  Infans  ad 
uber. 

Ibid.,  p.  637. 

(6)  Colonica  ad  Ulmes.  Fulcomares  .  .  .  Uxor  Vuteria.  Rade- 
bodus,  filius  baccalarius.  Dominicus,  filius  baccalarius.  Do- 
minildis,    filia    baccalaria.     Fulcorad,    annorum    VI.     Beto,    filius 


et  in  Bachallaria  tres  bordarias  et  in  villa  de  Anglars  IIII  mansos. 

Ibid.,  ch.   10    (Date:    ?). 

*(10)  In  villa  que  vocatur  la  Bachalaria,  in  manso  qui  vocatur 
li  Roures.  ( Foot-note :  "  Bachellerie,  village  sur  la  Briance,  .  .  . 
commune  de  St.-Hilaire.") 

Cartulaire  d'Aureil,  ch.  282  (Before  1140). 

*(11)  Hoc  est  feudum  presbiterale  de  ecclesia  Sancti  Juliani  de 
Larunt:  mansum  de  fonte  Arnaldi,  mansum  de  Bachalaria;  etc. 
( Foot-note :  "  St.- Julien-le  Petit,  commune  du  canton  d'Eymoutiers." ) 

Ibid.,  ch.  303    (Before  1140). 

(12)  Ego  Rodbertus  filius  Rodberti  Isalgari  et  Stephanie  dono 
.  .  .  fevum  et  vindemiam  mei  mansi  de  Bacallaria  qui  est  in  villa 
Deuslet.  (Cf.  Table  ge"n.,  s.  v.  Bacallaria,  which  locates  this  as  a 
dependency  of  Valu6jol,  dep.  of  Cantal). 

Cartulaire  de  Conques,  ch.  396  (A.  D.  1065-1087). 

(13)  Turpin,  bishop  of  Limoges,  is  quoted  by  Bernard  de  Guy 
as  saying:  Villain  quae  vocatur  Baccalaria,  quae  decern  in  se  mansos 
continere  probatur. 

Philippe  Labbe,  Nov.  Bibl.  Mss.,  II,  278;  cited  by  Deloche. 


7]  NOTES    ON    "  BACHELIER  "  231 

annorum    V.     Ingomares,    filius    annorum    III.     Romildis,    filia    an- 
norum II. 

Ibid.,  p.  639. 

(7)  Colonica  in  Cassaneto.  Teobertus,  colonus.  Uxor  Natalia. 
Teoberta,  filia  annorum  V.  Offrasia,  annorum  IIII  .  .  .  Magincus, 
baccalarius.     Rodolandus,    baccalarius.     Rodofredus,    clericus. 

Ibid.,  p.  640. 

(8)  Colonica  in  Mairolas.  Rodolfus,  mancipium.  Uxor  Fromul- 
dis.  Aulildis,  filia  annorum  X.  Rocara,  filia  annorum  VIII. 
Dadebertus,   baccalarius. 

Ibid.,  p.  640. 

(9)  Colonica  in  Primo  Capa.  Giso,  mancipium.  Uxor  Muscula. 
Adaltrudis,  filia  baocalaria.  Ermentrudis,  filia  baccalaria. 
Tomas,  filius  ad  scola.  Uius,  filius  annorum  VIII.  Arsinda, 
annorum  V  .  .  .  Ermesindis,  cum  infantes  suos.  Dominici,  verbe- 
carius.  Maurobertus,  mancipium.  Uxor  Superantia.  Mauregotus, 
filius  baccalarius.     Scaemenus,  baccalarius. 

Ibid.,  p.  642. 

(10)  Colonica  in  Caladio  indominicada.  Onoratus,  ad  requiren- 
dum.  Vuideratus,  baccalarius  Bertefredus.  Uxor  Florentia. 
Inga,  filia  annorum  X.  Emnildis,  filia  annorum  V.  Dominica,  filia 
annorum   III.     Joanna,   filia   annorum   III.     Infans   ad  uber. 

Ibid.,  p.  647. 

The  following  occurs  in  the  Usages  de  Barcelone : 5 

(11)  Sacramenta  rustici  qui  teneat  mansum  e+  laboret  cum 
pare  boum  sint  credenda  usque  ad  VII  solidos  platae.  De  aliis 
namque  rusticis  qui  dicuntur  bacallarii,  credantur  sacramenta 
usque-  ad  IV  mancusos  auri  valencie.4  Deinde  quidquid  jurent  per 
examen  caldarie  demonstrent. 

(A.  D.  1068?). 


4  Ch.  Giraud,  Essai  sur  I'histoire  du  droit  francais  au  moyen  Age. 
Paris,  1846,  vol.  II,  p.  474.  The  passage  cited  constitutes  §§  52-53 
of  Giraud's  text  of  the  Usatici  Barchinone  Patrie.  Cited  by  Du 
Cange  as  from  Usatici  Barchinonenses,  cap.  46. 

•The  table  of  moneys  given  in  the  Usages,  §  141  (Giraud,  n,  495) 
shows  that  a  silver  solidus  had  the  value  of  one  gold  mancusus 
and  a  half. 


232  STOWELL  [8 

The  context  of  the  examples  cited  above  for  baccalaria 
throws  very  incomplete  light  on  the  meaning  of  the  word, 
but  its  constant  recurrence  to  indicate  some  subordinate  por- 
tion of  a  country  property,  inventoried  side  by  side  with 
chapels,  servants'  quarters,  gardens,  orchards,  vineyards, 
meadows,  groves,  thickets,  and  the  like,  renders  manifest  that 
it  was  some  form  of  farm  dependency.7 

Baccalarius,  baccalaria,  as  an  adjective  or  substantive 
applied  to  persons,  is  employed  in  enumerations  of  peasants, 
and  stands  (after  the  names  of  married  couples  and  either 
alone  or  in  conjunction  with  filius,  filia)  in  contrast  with 
adults  and  with  children  of  all  ages  from  infancy  up  to  and 
including  fifteen  jrears.  It  is  also  used  in  contrast  with 
unqualified  filius,  filia.  The  conclusion  seems  natural  that 
the  unqualified  filius,  filia  had  reference  to  an  adult  son, 
daughter,  while  (filius)  baccalarius,  (filia)  baccalaria,  re- 
ferred to  the  children  over  fifteen  years  old  but  not  yet 
mature,  to  the  adolescents.  The  passages  found  all  occur  in 
one  ninth-century  text  and  clearly  accord  with  this  interpre- 
tation, with  the  exception  of  the  example  (II,  11)  occurring 
two  centuries  later  in  the  document  from  Barcelona.  Here 
the  baccalarius  is  mentioned  as  a  type  of  rustic  whose  oath 
is  counted  as  of  less  value  than  that  of  certain  specific  small 
proprietors.  This  might  seem  to  indicate  that  at  the  later 
period  the  term  had  come  to  be  applied  to  the  tenants  of  an 
exceedingly  unimportant  fief — a  meaning  not  impossible  of 

*Du  Cange  (Glossarium,  Henschel-Favre,  I,  p.  509),  Deloche 
(Cartulaire  de  Beaulieu,  Paris.  1859,  pp.  cclxxxvi  ff . ) ,  and  Diez 
(Worterbuch,  s.  v.  baccalare),  see  in  the  baccalaria  a  more  or  less 
important  tenure  with  the  baccalarius  as  tenant.  Stubbs  (Select 
Charters,  Glossary,  s.  v.  bacheleria)  would  make  it  a  grazing  farm. 
On  these  views  see  Guilhiermoz,  Origine  de  la  noblesse,  Paris,  1902, 
pp.  111-112.  Guilhiermoz  recognizes  that  the  baccalaria  is  only  a 
minor  portion  of  a  tenure,  but  does  not  attempt  to  determine  its 
character  further  than  that  he  considers  the  example  cited  above,  I, 
12,  to  indicate  that  the  ground  was  in  cultivation.  Doniol,  Cartu- 
laire de  Sauxillanges,  pp.  19-20,  discusses  the  word,  but  reaches  no 
conclusion. 


9]  NOTES    ON    "  BACHELIER  "  233 

development  from  baccalarius,  "  a  youth,"  but  more  likely  to 
be  derived  from  baccalaria,  "  a  farm-dependency." 

Leaving  aside  for  the  moment  the  reasons  for  the  change 
of  initial  v  to  b,  I  should  suggest,  in  the  light  of  the  above 
indications  of  the  meaning  of  this  group  of  words,  the  follow- 
ing possible  developments  in  form  and  meaning:  from  bacca, 
"  cow,"  an  adjective  *baccalis,  "  having  relation  to  cows  " ; 
from  this,  baccalaria,  "  place  having  relation  to  cows,"  bacca- 
larius, "  person  connected  with  a  baccalaria^  There  is  not 
at  present  sufficient  information  about  the  nature  of  the 
baccalaria  and  the  baccalarius  to  give  certainty  to  more 
specific  definitions.  It  is  therefore  only  as  a  query  and 
under  all  reserves  that  I  make  the  suggestions  which  follow. 
Since  the  baccalaria  in  the  cartularies  is  a  minor  form  of 
farm-dependency,  this  dependency  may  have  been  the  pasture 
field  or  fields,  a  meaning  not  out  of  harmony  with  the  ex- 
amples, except  perhaps  in  the  case  of  I,  12,  where  the  late 
date  minimizes  its  value  in  determining  the  basal  signification 
of  the  word.  The  baccalarius,  "  the  youth  "  of  the  cartularies, 
may  in  like  manner  once  have  been  "  the  cow-herd."  Since 
cow-herding  as  one  of  the  lightest  forms  of  farm  labor  would 
frequently  fall  to  the  charge  of  adolescents,  "  cow-herd " 
could  readily  be  transferred  in  meaning  to  "  adolescent." 

It  is  not  impossible  that  we  have  a  trace  of  the  meaning 
"  cow-herd  "  preserved  still  in  the  Old  French,  to  judge  by 
the  following  examples,8  taken  from  Old  French  Bible  gloss- 
aries in  Hebrew  characters. 

D :    moron  now  D^nn  fe  wy^sm^i  enwn 

E:  yn  yr\  on  antc^?^  wysn 

F:   nioran  now  crjmn  on  vpfa  er$  nnjnn 

*  These  examples  are  from  the  manuscripts  described  by  Dar- 
mesteter  in  "  Glosses  et  glossaires  hebreux-francais,"  Ro.  I,  pp. 
146-176.  For  them  and  the  accompanying  comment  I  am  indebted 
to  the  kindness  of  Dr.  D.  S.  Blondheim  of  the  University  of  Illinois. 


234  STOWELL  [10 

D.  "  The  young  men,"   les   bachelers,  that  is,  the  herdsmen  who 

guard  the  cattle. 

E.  "  The  young  men,"  les  bachelers,  these  are  herdsmen  of  cattle. 

F.  "  The  young  men,"  les  mechines,  these  are  the  herdsmen  who 

guard  the  cattle. 

The  Hebrew  word  glossed,  though  used  elsewhere  as  well 
(Gen.  37,  2)  for  a  herdsman,  literally  means  only  a  "young 
man,"  a  "  lad,"  and  the  fact  that  ms.  F  translates  "  les 
mechines"  makes  it  doubtful  whether  bacheler  really  means 
more  than  "  youth  "  in  this  connection.  It  is  possible,  how- 
ever, in  view  of  the  somewhat  archaic  character  of  the  glos- 
saries, that  D  and  E  preserve  an  old  gloss  using  bacheler  in 
an  antiquated  sense,  while  F,  which  seems  to  have  been 
written  in  Germany  and  is  perhaps  later  than  the  other  texts, 
may  have  altered  the  original  reading. 

Should  the  connection  in  meaning  among  the  forms  we 
have  considered  be  granted  to  be  natural,  there  still  remains 
the  question  of  the  substitution  of  initial  b  for  v.  In  con- 
nection with  this,  the  geographical  location  of  the  examples 
is  of  interest.  Baccalaria,  the  farm  dependency,  has  been 
found  only  in  texts  belonging  to  territory  which  is  embraced 
in  the  present  departments  of  Correze  (Beaulieu  and  Tulle: 
14  examples),  Cantal  (Aurillac:  1  example),  Aveyron  (Con- 
ques:  1  example),  Puy-de-D6me  ( Sauxillanges,  located  in 
the  south-central  . part  of  the  department:  1  example). 
Turning  to  the  Atlas  linguistique,9  we  find  that  Latin  initial 
v  is  represented  by  b  in  Aveyron,  and  by  b  by  the  side  of  v 
in  Correze  and  Cantal.  In  other  words,  baccalaria  belongs  to 
the  b  territory  in  sixteen  instances  and  to  contiguous  terri- 
tory in  the  remaining  instance.10 

•  Carte  1349,  "  vache,"  and  other  maps  of  words  with   initial  v. 

10  In  the  cases  where  the  word  baccalaria  has  become  a  proper 
name  (see  note  4),  the  almost  uniform  custom  of  joining  with  it 
the  article  la  indicates  that  we  are  dealing  merely  with  the  French 
place  name  La  Bachellerie  in  a  Latin  dress,  but  there  seems  no 
reason   to  question   that  this   French   name   goes  back  in  the  first 


11]  NOTES    ON    "  BACHELIER  "  235 

Baccdlarius  applied  to  persons,  with  the  exception  of  the 
Barcelona  example,  has  been  found  only  at  Marseilles;  that 
is  to  say,  in  territory  still  in  the  general  region  near  the 
v  >  b  ground,  but  more  distinctly  separated  from  it  than 
any  place  at  which  we  have  been  able  to  locate  baccalaria, 
the  land  term. 

A  possible  inference  from  the  foregoing  facts  and  deduc- 
tions is  that  in  a  part  of  South  France,  in  a  section  where 
v  >  b,  there  arose  the  words  baccalaria,  baccdlarius  with  the 
meanings  represented  in  other  French  territory  by  vaccaria, 
vaccarius;  that  baccdlarius,  in  a  transferred  meaning  "youth," 
lost  all  trace  of  its  connection  with  vacca  and  spread  to  the 
other  parts  of  the  territory,  forming  the  background  of 
bachelier.11 

The  material  brought  together  in  this  paper  can  probably 
be    supplemented    by    further   examination   of    documents,12 

place  to  baccalaria.  As  a  place  name,  however,  it  has  lost  all  traces 
of  whatever  specific  content  it  originally  possessed,  and  we  find  it  in 
the  cartularies  applied  to  mansus,  villa,  or  bordaria. 

Baccalaria  as  a  place  name  occurs  for  Correze  ( Uzerche  and  Tulle : 
5  examples),  Cantal  ( Value jol:  1  example),  and  Haute-Vienne 
(Vigeois,  Aureil,  Limoges:  7  examples)  ;  that  is,  to  6  territory  in 
six  instances,  to  contiguous  territory  in  the  other  seven  instances. 
Joanne's  Dictionnavre  ge"ographique  gives  La  Bachellerie  as  the 
name  of  five  places  in  France,  ranging  in  population  from  60  to  1535. 
One  of  these  is  located  in  Dordogne,  two  are  in  Correze,  two  in  Haute- 
Vienne.  These  indications  render  it  probable  that  baccalaria  as  a 
common  noun  and,  later  on,  as  a  proper  noun  originated  in  and  was 
restricted  to  a  limited  territory  in  and  near  the  region  where  v  is 
still  to-day  represented  by  6. 

u  If  this  be  correct,  the  Old  French  form  bacheler  is  due  to 
an  almost  inevitable  confusion  with  the  other  words  with  an  I  stem 
(sangler,  chevaler,  escoler,  etc.),  which  go  back  to  the  suffix  -alis. 
On  the  French  -er  and  -ier,  see  Diet,  gin.:  Traits,  pp.  61,  96,  117; 
on  -arias,  see  Zimmerman,  Die  Geschichte  des  lat.  Suffixes  -arius, 
Darmstadt,   1895;   Thomas,   Ro.  xxxi,   pp.   481-498. 

13 1  have,  however,  been  unable  to  find  further  examples  of 
baccalaria  in  a  quite  extensive  list  of  cartularies  from  all  parts  of 
the  territory. 


236  8T0WELL  [12 

and  it  can  manifestly  not  be  claimed  that  the  evidence  here 
adduced  is  conclusive  as  to  the  meaning  of  baccalaria  and 
the  relation  of  the  group  of  words.  It  is  possible  that  I  am 
influenced  in  my  interpretation  by  the  fact  that  the  render- 
ings would  accord  with  the  connection  suggested  between 
these  words  and  bachelier,  yet  if  further  investigation  should 
reveal  additional  material  according  with  the  meaning  and 
the  geographical  distribution  of  the  examples  so  far  cited, 
there  would  seem  to  be  no  valid  objection  to  definitely 
connecting  the  word  bachelier  with  Latin  vacca.ls 

13 1  desire  to  express  my  thanks  to  Professor  C.  M.  Andrews  for 
information  regarding  English  documents  where  the  word  baccalaria 
might  be  sought,  and  to  Professor  E.  C.  Armstrong,  who,  in  addition 
to  other  valuable  suggestions,  directed  my  attention  to  the  import- 
ance of  the  geographical  location  of  the  cartularies  where  the  term 
occurs. 


ETYMOLOGICAL   NOTES1 

BY 

D.  S.  Blondheim 


Cadastre 


To  one  who  reads  the  article  cadastre  in  the  New  English 
Dictionary,  it  would  seem  that  modern  lexicographical  science 
had  said  its  last  word  on  the  subject.  We  are  told  that 
cadastre  has  been  adopted  from  "  Fr.  cadastre;  =  Sp.,  It. 
catastro : — Late  L.  capitastrum  '  register  of  the  poll  tax,'  f . 
caput  head,  poll,"  and  that  the  word  means  "a.  (=  L.  capi- 
tastrum.) The  register  of  capita,  juga,  or  units  of  territorial 
taxation  into  which  the  Roman  provinces  were  divided  for 
the  purposes  of  capitatio  terrena  or  land  tax.  (Poste  Gains.) 
b.  A  register  of  property  to  serve  as  a  basis  of  proportional 
taxation,  a  Domesday  Book.  c.  (in  mod.  French  use)  A 
public  register  of  the  quantity,  value,  and  ownership  of  the 
real  property  of  a  country."  A  closer  examination  of  the 
subject,  however,  is  unfavorable  to  the  views  adopted  by  the 
editors  of  the  great  work  of  the  Philological  Society. 

To  begin  with,  so  far  as  accessible  information  indicates, 
the  Latin  capitastrum,  which  figures  so  bravely  as  the  etymon 
of  cadastre,  never  existed  except  in  the  imagination  of 
etymologists.  The  New  English  Dictionary,  usually  so  care- 
ful, has  been  led  astray  by  the  commentary  appended  to 
Poste's  edition  and  translation  of  the  Roman  jurist  Gaius'  In- 

1  For  valuable  aid  in  connection  with  the   following  notes  I   am 

indebted  to  Professors  David  H.  Carnahan  and  John  D.  Fitz-Gerald, 

of   the   University  of   Illinois,   to   Professor   Edward    S.   Sheldon,  of 

Harvard   University,  and  to  my  sister,  Miss  Grace  H.   Blondheim. 

1]  237 


238  BLONDHEIM  [2 

stitutionum  Iuris  Civilis  Commentarii  Quatuor,2  from  which 
comes  the  substance  of  definition  a,  as  well  as  the  quotation 
given  a  few  lines  below  it :  "  The  list  of  capita  was  called  a 
Cadastre   ( capitastrum ) ."  3 

Poste  has  in  turn  derived  his  information  from  Savigny, 
to  whom  he  refers.  The  illustrious  German  jurist,  in  a 
paper  entitled  Romische  Steuerverfassung  unter  den  Kaisern* 
in  describing  the  ancient  registers  of  real  property,  remarks : 
"  Im  spateren  Mittelalter  nannte  man  diese  Grundbiicher 
capitastra,  weil  es  Yerzeichnisse  der  Steuerhufen  {capita) 
waren:  daraus  hat  sich  catastrum  gebildet,  welches  noch  in 
unsern  Tagen  die  ubliche  Bezeichnung  geblieben  ist." 
Savigny  states  that  this  derivation  is  already  to  be  found 
in  Jacques  Godefroy 's  famous  edition  of  the  Theodosian  code, 
a  work  first  printed  at  Lyons  in  1665.  Godefroy  mentions, 
in  fact,5  that  a  book  of  the  kind  in  question  "  In  Gallia  ali- 
quibus  in  locis  a  capitibus  vel  capitatione,  Capdastra,  vel 
Catastre  vocatur,  Capitationis  scilicet  registrum."  It  will 
be  seen  that  Savigny  has  gone  a  step  beyond  the  cautious 
Godefroy  in  giving  as  a  real  form  a  purely  hypothetical 
capitastra,  made,  no  doubt,  in  the  image  of  capdastra. 

'Oxford,  1875,  p.  174. 

8  It  may  be  noted  in  passing  that  the  New  English  Dictionary, 
in  its  etymological  note,  falls,  as  does  Diez  (p.  93 ) ,  into  the  error 
of  many  old  jurists  as  to  the  sense  of  caput  in  Roman  law,  in 
describing  capitastrum  as  a  "  register  of  the  poll  tax,"  while  a  few 
lines  below,  under  definition  a,  it  inconsistently  follows  the  correct 
interpretation,  given  by  Poste,  according  to  which  caput  was  a  unit 
of  land. 

4  This  study,  read  February  27,  1823,  before  the  Berlin  Academy 
of  Sciences,  was  printed  in  the  Abhandlungen  of  the  Academy 
(histoiisch-philosophische  Klasse)  for  the  years  1822  and  1823, 
(Berlin,  1825).  The  passage  referred  to  is  on  p.  57,  and  is  reprinted 
in  Savigny's  Kleinere  Schriften,  vol.  2   (Berlin,  1850),  pp.  125-126. 

5  Codex  Theodosianus  cum  perpetuis  commentariis  Jacobi  Gotho- 
fredi,  ed.  Ritter,  vol.  5  (Mantua,  1748),  p.  104.  The  passage  in 
question  is  cited  by  the  Benedictines  in  Du  Cange,  s.  v.  capdastra. 


3]  CADASTRE  239 

Savigny's  conjecture  was  not  a  new  one.  Long  before  him 
Menage  had  advanced  the  opinion  that  catastro  and  cadastre 
came  from  capitastrum,  in  supporting  his  view  by  "  l'anci- 
enne  orthographe  capdastre."  6 

Diez  follows  Menage.  He  says  (I.  I.)  :  "  Das  fruhste 
mittelalter  brauchte  dafiir  capitularium  Greg.  Tur.  9,  30 
mit  dem  zusatz  in  quo  tributa  continebantur ,  eigentlich  eine 
in  capitula  eingeteilte  schrif t ; 7  capitastrum  aber  entstand 
gewiss  unmittelbar  aus  caput  wie  sp.  cabezon  steuerliste  aus 
cabczaP  Thus,  like  Savigny,  Diez  would  appear  to  regard 
capitastrum  as  of  late  medieval  origin. 

The  objections  naturally  presenting  themselves  against 
such  a  hypothesis  are  striking.  In  the  first  place,  as  Ulrich 
suggests,8  the  formation  of  such  a  word  at  any  period  would 
be  surprising.  Moreover,  if  the  word  had  arisen  late  in  the 
middle  ages,  as  Diez  supposes,  it  could  not  have  given  the 
Eomance  forms,  which  could  have  come  only  from  a  popular 
development,  and  an  irregular  one  at  that.  There  is  little 
need  to  enlarge  upon  the  difficulties  of  this  etymology,  diffi- 
culties which  led  the  editors  of  the  Dictionnaire  general  to 
describe  the  origin  of  the  word  as  uncertain,  and  caused 
Gaston  Paris 9  to  treat  with  a  certain  seriousness  Ulrich's 
very  hypothetical  ^Karoo-rpaKov. 

The  oldest  examples  of  the  word  known  to  me  are  cited 
from  Italy.  Giulio  Eezasco,  in  his  valuable  Dizionario 
del  linguaggio  italiano  storico  e  amministrativo,10  informs 
us  (s.  v.  catasto)  that  the  word  came  into  use  in  Flor- 
ence   in    connection  with  a  reform  in  taxation    introduced 


•  Dictionnaire  etymologique  de  la  langue  francoise  (Paris,  1694), 
s.  v.  cadastre.  Capitastrum  appears  for  the  first  time  in  the  Origini 
della  lingua  italiana  (Paris,  1669). 

'  The  reference  to  Gregory  of  Tours  is  borrowed  from  Manage,  who 
cites  it  from  Antoine  Dadin  de  Hauteserre's  Rerum  Aquitanicarum 
libri  quinque   (Toulouse,  1648,  p.  172). 

•ZRPh.  xxn,  262.  *Ro.  xxvn,  511. 

"Florence,  1881. 


240  BLONDHEIM  [4 

in  the  year  1427,  involving  an  assessment  of  all  sources  of 
income.  The  word  was  also  applied  to  the  tax  levied  on  the 
basis  of  such  an  assessment.11  The  word  occurs  previously 
in  Umbria  and  in  the  Marches;  Eezasco  cites  the  form 
catascto  (sic;  bis)  from  the  statutes  of  Perugia  (1342)  and 
catasti  (pi.)  from  those  of  Norcia  (1342),  while  the  archives 
of  Fabriano  still  preserve  the  Liber  Catastus  Fabriani  de 
anno  1322.  The  word  is  found  still  earlier  in  Venice,  under 
the  form  catastico;  in  a  document  dated  November,  1185,  it 
signifies  a  list  of  citizens  owning  taxable  property.12 

The  word  was  not,  however,  restricted  in  the  Venetian 
territory  to  this  sense;  it  often  meant  simply  an  inventory, 

u  The  oldest  Florentine  text  known  to  me  containing  the  word  is 
a  Latin  document  dated  July  4,  1426,  with  the  form  catastum, 
published  in  the  Giornale  storico  degli  archivi  toscani,  iv,  40.  For 
a  reference  to  the  article  containing  it  I  am  indebted  to  Rezasco, 
I.  I.  The  oldest  examples  cited  by  the  Benedictines  in  Du  Cange 
(s.  v.  catastrum)  come  from  documents  of  Popes  Eugene  IV  (1431- 
1447)  and  Nicholas  V  (1447-1455).  S.  v.  catastatio  the  Benedictines 
refer  to  the  De  Finibus  Regundis  of  Hieronymus  de  Monte  ( 1st  ed. 
Venice,  1556  [at  Harvard] ;  2d  ed.,  revised  by  the  author, 
Venice,  1562  [Brit.  Mus.] )  ;  the  passage  indicated  is  (ed.  1588,  f. 
348  v. ) ,  "6  Catastatio  illius,  qui  est  debitor  onerum  realium  in 
uno  loco,  non  praejudicat  alteri  loco.  7  Catastum  praebet  signum, 
quod  bona  in  illo  acatastata  (ed.  1556:  accatestata)  sint  illius, 
cujus  est  catastum."  Professor  Sheldon  states  that  this  writer's 
proper  name  is  Hieronymus  de  Monte  Brixianus,  and  that  he  may 
have  been  related  to  "  Petrus  de  Monte  Venetus "  ( bishop  of 
Brescia,  1442-1457;  cf.  Gradonicus,  Brixia  Sacra  [Brescia,  1755], 
337  ff. ) ,  and  perhaps  to  Pope  Julius  III. 

12  Rezasco,  s.  V.  catastico  and  s.  v.  catasto;  the  text  cited  is 
probably  that  referred  to  by  Cecchetti  (La  Vita  dei  veneziani  fino  al 
1200  [Venice,  1870],  p.  51),  as  recording  the  entry  in  the  "  catastici 
del  Comune  "  of  the  names  of  returned  Venetians  despoiled  in  1171 
in  Byzantine  territory  by  the  emperor  Manuel,  restitution  being 
made  by  Andronicus  Comnenus  (1183-1185)  and  Isaac  Angelus 
(1185-1195).  On  p.  73  Cecchetti  cites  another  example  of  the 
same  expression  in  Latin  form  from  a  text  of  May,  1207. 


5]  CADASTRE  241 

as  in  the  following  passage  of  a  Paduan  chronicle : 13  "  Ap- 
pare  nel  Catastico  di  tutti  i  beni  della  veneranda  Area  di 
esso  glorioso  Santo  delP  anno  1405,  che  fino  all'  Anno  pre- 
sente  1560  si  conservano.  .  .  ."  Cecchetti  defines  the  word,14 
"  Inventario,  e  spesso  quasi  protocollo  di  scritture  risguardanti 
i  possessi  di  privati,  ed  anche  di  tutti  i  documenti  di  un 
Ufficio  o  di  una  amministrazione,  e,  anticamente,  degli  averi 
e  degli  aggravii  del  Governo." 

Catastico  seems  also  to  have  meant  the  "  statute-book  "  or 
"journal"  (matricola)  of  a  corporation;  a  text  of  1530  15  tes- 
tifies that  the  expenditure  of  150  ducats  on  August  3,  1377,  by 
the  Scuola  di  San  Cristoforo  dei  Mercadanti  alia  Madonna 
delV  Orto  "...  apar  .  .  .  per  el  libro  over  chatasticho  dela 
nostra  schuola  .  .  .  " 

Kezasco  cites  the  derivates  catasticare  (1425),  catasticatore 
(1540),  and  catasticazione  (1576),  all  used  in  reference  to 
the  assessment  of  property.  Pirona  gives  the  noun  catdstic 
and  the  verb  catastico,  as  in  use  in  Friuli. 

From  the  facts  cited  it  is  evident  that  any  etymological 
study  of  catasto  must  begin  with  the  form  catastico,  which, 
strangely  enough,  seems  to  have  escaped  the  attention  of  all 
previous    students     of    the     word,     with    one    exception.16 

13Muratori,  Rerum  italicarum  scriptores,  vol.  xvn,  col.  944;  cited 
by  Rezasco,  s.  v.  catastico. 

u  Archivio  veneto,  xxix,  471. 

**  Atti  del  Regio  Istituto  Veneto,  series  ill,  vol.  xv,  p.  1616. 

"The  exception  is  Ottavio  Ferrari,  who,  in  his  Origines  linguae 
Italicae  (Padua,  1676),  has  an  article  headed  Catasto  &  Catastico, 
which  he  proposes  to  derive  "  a  Graeco  /caMrra/xcu,  constituor, 
redigor,  componor;  vt  Catastici  libri  sint,  in  quibus  bona  civium 
conscribuntur,  &  in  ordinem  rediguntur.  11  registro."  Though  born 
in  Milan  (1607),  Ferrari  had  been  professor  in  Padua  since  1634 
and  doubtless  learned  to  know  the  form  catastico  in  his  new 
environment.  As  he  taught  Greek,  one  might  suppose  he  meant  to 
regard  the  word  as  adapted  from  Karaa-rariKdi  rather  than  directly 
from  Ka6t<TTauai ;  cf.  the  French  catastatique  (LittrS)  and  the 
erroneous  Portuguese  form  catastico,  "adj.  (de  catastase)  t.  med. 
Do.  temperamento "  (Moraes,  1844,  1858,  1877).  Michaelis  (1907) 
gives   the  proper  Portuguese  form  catastatico. 

15 


242  BLONDHEIM  [6 

Catastico  is  clearly  an  adaptation  of  the  mediaeval  and 
modern  Greek  word  Kardarixov  meaning  nowadays  (He- 
pites)  an  "  account-book/' 17  "  a  list."  The  oldest  example 
known  to  me  18  occurs  in  the  Antiquum  Rationarum  Augusti 
Caesaris™  where  it  is  applied  (Cotelerius,  p.  355;  Gronovius, 
p.  737)  to  an  account  of  tax-receipts  kept  by  a  district  tax- 
collector. 

In  the  comprehensive  study  (in  Eussian)  entitled  "  Traces 
of  Cadastres  in  Byzantium/' 20  the  distinguished  Russian 
historian  Professor  Uspensky,  director  of  the  Russian  Archae- 
ological Institute  in  Constantinople,  points  out  (p.  315)  that 
aKpoa-TLxov  unites  in  Byzantine  Greek  the  meanings  "  tax- 
register,  assessment-book,"  and  "  land-tax "  (cf .  the  two 
senses  of  catasto),  while  the  primitive  ot;(<hs  means  in 
mediaeval  times  "  assessment-book."  He  cites  (pp.  315,  327) 
several  examples  of  the  use  of  adapted  forms  of  d/cpdorixov 
in  Latin  documents,  but  seems  in  the  accessible  parts  of  the 
article    to    make    no    reference    to    /canwrxov  or    catastico. 

"  The  word  has  passed  in  this  sense  into  Roumanian,  where  it  has 
the  forms  catastih  and  catastif ;  cf.  Cihac,  vol.  II,  p.  645. 

18  Referred  to  in  Du  Cange,  Glossarium  Mediae  et  Infimae  Grae- 
citatis,  s.  v. 

19  This  text,  contained  in  a  twelfth  century  manuscript  in  Paris 
(cf.  Cat.  Omont,  no.  1670),  was  published  by  Montfaucon  (Analecta 
Graeca,  Paris,  1688;  also  in  Cotelerius,  Ecclesiae  Graecae  Monu- 
menta,  vol.  IV,  Paris,  1692),  and  also  by  Gronovius  (De  Sestertiis, 
Leyden,  1691).  It  is  posterior  to  Leo  the  Isaurian  (717-741;  cf. 
Cotelerius,  p.  325,  and  Gronovius,  p.  712),  and  antedates  1099  (cf. 
Cotelerius,  p.  367;  Gronovius,  p.  746. 

20  Published  in  the  Journal  of  the  Ministry  of  Education  ( St. 
Petersburg),  ccxxxi  (1884),  1-43  and  289-335,  and  CCXL  (1885), 
1-52.  The  latter  volume  is  inaccessible,  the  files  of  the  Journal  in 
the  Harvard,  Astor,  and  Congressional  Libraries  all  being  incom- 
plete. Being  unable  to  read  Russian,  I  am  greatly  indebted  to  Dr. 
Simon  Litman  and  to  Mr.  H.  E.  Mantz,  of  the  University  of  Illinois, 
for  the  translation  of  portions  of  the  article.  Krumbacher'a  Ge- 
schichte  der  byzantinischen  Litteratur  (2d  edition,  Munich,  1897), 
p.  1086,  makes  reference  to  the  study. 


7]  CADASTRE  243 

Gaston  Paris'  remark,21  "  il  semble  bien  que  Kara  figure  dans 
ce  mot,"  represents  an  approach  to  the  opinion  I  have  ad- 
vanced, and  supports  it  to  a  certain  extent. 

The  borrowing  of  the  Greek  word  by  the  Venetians  is 
easily  understood,  and  would  seem  to  add  a  new  fact  to  the 
history  of  Byzantine  influence  upon  the  West  of  Europe. 
The  change  from  catastico  to  catasto  in  some  non- Venetian 
dialect  is  also  readily  comprehensible.  The  existence  of 
catasta,  "pile  of  wood,"  would  facilitate  the  change,22  as 
well  as  the  analogy  of  words  like  simbolo  by  the  side  of 
simbolico. 

The  adoption  of  the  word  by  the  Florentines  was  soon 
followed  by  its  appearance  in  other  parts  of  Italy;  Eezasco 
notes  (s.  v.  catasto)  that  it  occurs  in  Genoa  in  1453,  and 
figures  in  a  Neapolitan  text  dated  1490.  The  influence  of 
the  termination  -astro  produced  the  non-Tuscan  form  catas- 
tro,  used,  according  to  Eezasco,  s.  v.,  "nelP  Urbinate,  nel 
Piemonte  e  nella  Liguria."  23 

Catastro  seems  to  have  passed  into  Provence  about  the 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.     Mistral  cites  the  form 

21  Ro.  xxvn,  511. 

"The  attempt  of  Machiavelli,  who  is  followed  by  Muratori  (Anti- 
quitates  Italicae,  n,  col.  1181;  referred  to  in  Du  Cange,  s.  v. 
catastrum) ,  to  derive  catasto  from  the  catasta  group,  is  quite 
unsatisfactory  on  morphological  as  well  as  semantic  grounds.  This 
view  has  had  a  belated  revival  in  the  study  of  P.  F.  Bernitt,  Lat. 
caput  und  *capum  nebst  ihren  Wortsippen  im  Franzosischen  (Kiel, 
1905),  p.  93  ff. ;  this  work,  accessible  only  at  the  last  moment, 
anticipates  some  of  the  points  made  in  the  present  article,  especially 
that  of  the  diffusion  of  the  word  from  Italy. 

aMorri  (Vocabolario  romagnolo-italiano,  Faenza,  1840)  gives  the 
form  catastar;  Cherubini  (vol.  4,  1843,  supplement),  gives  the  Milan- 
ese form  cataster,  as  well  as  (1839)  the  diminutive  catastrin,  used 
also  in  the  sense  of  "  quello  estratto  del  Catasto  che  ogni  estimato  ha 
diritto  ad  ottenere  dalle  autorita  per  quella  parte  per  cui  vi  e 
inscritto."  G.  R.  Carli  (Scritt.  class,  ital.  di  economia  pol.,  xiv, 
240)    used  in   1760  catastrino  for  catasto. 


244  BLOXDHEIM  [8 

cathastre  from  the  Cadastre  of  Albi,  dated  1525.24  Catastre 
became  cadastre  through  the  analogy  of  words  derived  from 
Lat.  catasta;  cf.  Mistral,  cadastre,  and  also  Levy,  cadastar. 
The  writing  -pd-  is  a  reflection  of  the  influence  of  Provencal 
words  of  the  caput  family ;  it  is  also  to  be  noted  that  cap-oreu 
(cf.  Mistral  and  Sp.  cabezori),  is  used  in  a  sense  similar  to 
that  of  cadastre.2* 

The  French  cadastre  is  first  cited  from  Jean  Bodin's  Dis- 
cours  sur  les  monnoyes  (1578),  which  speaks  of  the  "  cadastre 
de  Toulouze  " ;  the  word  comes  of  course  from  Provence,  as 
the  Dictionnaire  general  remarks.  Catastro  does  not  appear 
in  accessible  Spanish  dictionaries  before  1780  (Dictionary  of 
the  Spanish  Academy).  Moraes  (1844)  cites  cadastro  from 
a  Portuguese  text  of  1788,  and  catastro  appears  in  1803  in 
the  Catalan  Dictionary  of  Esteve-Belvitges-Jugla  y  Font. 

If  the  view  advanced  in  this  article  be  correct,  it  throws 
an  interesting  side-light  upon  the  remark  of  Burckhardt,26 
"  Venedig  mochte  sich  wohl  als  den  Geburtsort  der  modernen 
Statistik  geltend  machen  diirfen,  mit  ihm  vielleicht  Florenz 
und  in  zweiter  Linie  die  entwickelteren  italienischen  Fiirsten- 
thumer."  Compare  the  statement  of  Einaldo  degli  Albizi, 
in  recommending  on  March  7,  1427,  the  adoption  of  the 
catasto : 2T  "  Et  Veneciis  forma  hec  servatur,  et  dicitur  civi- 
tatem  illam  pre  ceteris  melius  regi  et  gubernari.  .  .  " 

u  The  form  catastre  is  given  as  a  variant  of  cadastre  by  Cotgrave 
(1611),  as  well  as  by  Jacques  Godefroy,  who  has  been  cited  above. 

25  In  connection  with  the  Venetian  meaning  of  catastico,  it  is 
interesting  to  note  the  remark  of  Chomel  (Supplement,  1743,  proba- 
bly copying  Savary  des  Bruslons,  1723-30),  that  cadastre  is  sometimes 
applied  by  the  merchants  of  Provence  and  Dauphing  "  au  Journal 
ou  Registre  sur  lequel  ils  ecrivent  chaque  jour  les  affaires  concernant 
leur  commerce,  et  le  detail  de  la  dgpense  de  leur  maison." 

21  Die  Cultur  der  Renaissance  in  Italien,  ed.  Geiger,  vol.  I  (Leipsic, 
1877),  p.  69. 

"  Giornale  storico  degli  archivi  toscani,  iv,  43-4 ;  cited  by  Rezasco, 
8.  v.  catasto. 


9]  CERDO,    CERDA  245 


Cerdo,   Cerda 

Diez's  view 28  that  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese  cerdo, 
"  hog,"  is  derived  from  Lat.  sordidus,  through  the  interme- 
diate forms  *suerdo,  *serdo,  the  change  of  ue  to  e  being 
supposedly  parallel  to  that  seen  in  fruente  >  frente,  has  been 
pronounced  "  very  doubtful "  by  Meyer-Liibke,29  and  rejected 
by  Ford  30  as  postulating  initial  c  <  s  and  e  <  6.  The  indi- 
rect confirmation  of  Diez's  etymology  which  Madame 
Michaelis  de  Vasconcellos  finds  in  her  demonstration  [Mis- 
cellanea .  .  .  in  memoria  di  Nap.  Caix  e  Ugo  A.  Ganello 
(Florence,  1886),  pp.  164-165]  that  Portuguese  xurdo 
"dirty"  (epithet  of  a  hog)  and  xodreiro  "dirty;  mud- 
puddle,"  come  from  Lat.  sordidus,  is  not  very  convincing, 
though  it  seems  to  have  led  Meyer-Liibke  to  modify  the 
statement  previously  quoted  by  saying 31  that  it  is  "  not 
certain  "  that  cerdo  is  from  sordidus. 

Diez  notes  that  by  the  side  of  cerdo  there  exists  the  word 
cerda,  "  bristle,  horse-hair,"  which  he  regards  as  derived 
from  cerdo;  he  suggests  that  cerda  originally  may  have 
meant  a  "  pig-skin,"  and  then  have  been  restricted  to  the 
"  bristles  "  upon  the  pig-skin.  This  view,  in  itself  none  too 
plausible,  rests  in  part  upon  an  error.  Diez  defines  cerda 
incorrectly  "  haufe  schweinsborsten  oder  auch  pferdehaare," 
an  inaccuracy  probably  explained  by  the  fact  that  cerda  is 
generally  used  in  the  plural. 

A  serious  objection  to  this  explanation  consists  in  the 
apparently  complete  absence  of  cerdo  from  Spanish  diction- 
aries printed  previous  to  1729,  when  the  word  appears  in 
the    famous    Diccionario    de    autoridades    of    the    Spanish 

28  Etymologisches  Worterbuch,  p.  438. 
"ZRPh.  vm,  228. 

89  Old  Spanish  Sibilants,  in  the  Harvard  Studies  and  Notes  in 
Philology  and  Literature,  vii,  72,  n.  2. 

n  Grammaire  des  langues  romanes,  I,   §  217. 


246  BLONDHEIM  [10 

Academy,32  Cerda,  on  the  other  hand  is  found  in  Pedro  de 
Alcala  (1505),33  in  Christoual  de  las  Casas  (1587),  and  in 
Covarrubias  (1611).  If  the  last-named,  who  is  generally 
well-informed,  had  known  of  the  existence  of  cerdo,  he  could 
hardly  have  failed  to  mention  it,  since  he  remarks,  s.  v. 
cerda:  "  Solos  los  puercos  estan  llenos  de  cerdas,  estas  son 
cortas,  y  los  llamamos  por  esta  razon,  El  ganado  de  la  cerda." 
Moreover,  the  word  is  not  added  in  the  enlarged  edition  of 
Covarrubias  published  in  1674,  and  the  Diccionario  de  auto- 
ridades,  though  it  quotes  the  word  cerda  from  three  writers, 
does  not  give  any  examples  to  illustrate  the  use  of  the  word 
cerdo,  and  defines  it :  "Lo  mismo  que  Cochino,  Puerco  6 
Marrano.  Llamase  tambien  assi,  porque  este  animal  en  lugar 
de  pelo  esta  cubierto  de  cerdas  cortas.  .  .  " 

It  should  be  noted,  moveover,  that  no  form  corresponding 
to  cerdo  exists  by  the  side  of  cerda  in  Catalan.34  Further- 
more, the  Portuguese  dictionary  of  Moraes  (1844),  which 
gives  cerda  without  remark,  describes  cerdo  as  antiquated; 

82  The  word  cerdo,  along  with  cerdudo  and  cerdoso,  has  been  added 
in  the  margin  of  the  copy  of  Covarrubias  (1611)  belonging  to  the 
Johns  Hopkins  University.  The  original  owner  of  the  book,  one 
Don  Diego  Nicolas  Ruiz  de  Ojeda  Gallegos  y  Andrada,  to  give  him 
in  one  breath  all  the  names  he  assumes  in  three  incomplete  auto- 
graphs on  the  title-leaf  of  the  book,  made  systematic  additions  to 
the  dictionary,  mostly  learned  words  of  little  interest  to  Romance 
students.  D.  Antonio  Paz  y  Melia  kindly  informs  me  that  the 
Madrid  ms.  cited  by  Gallardo  (Ensayo,  n,  app.,  p.  115,  s.  v.  Ojeda) 
makes  no  reference  to  this  D.  Diego  de  Ojeda.  The  additions,  accord- 
ing to  various  indications,  would  seem  to  antedate  the  Diccionario  de 
autoridades.  This  manuscript  note  is  consequently  the  oldest  evi- 
dence known  to  me  for  the  existence  of  cerdo. 

83  P.  166  b,  ed.  Lagarde.  Neither  cerdo  nor  cerda  occurs  in 
Lebrija,  to  judge  by  the  reprint  of  Antonio  por  Rubinos   (1778). 

"This  statement  rests  on  the  fact  that  the  dictionaries  of  Esteve- 
Belvitges-Jugla  y  Font  (1803),  Labernia  (1839),  Saura  (1878), 
and  Labernia  y  Esteller  (n.  d. ),  though  all  containing  cerda,  give 
no  form  *cert,  and  that  Saura  (1870)  renders  the  Spanish  cerdo, 
"  Porch,   tocino,   bac6." 


11]  CERDO,    CERDA  24? 

this  statement  should  probably  be  interpreted  as  meaning 
that  the  word  was  an  ephemeral  importation  from  Spain.35 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  cerdo  was  derived  from  cerda, 
presumably  at  a  comparatively  late  period.  The  exact  way 
in  which  cerdo  was  formed  is  obscure;  the  suggestion  of  the 
Spanish  Academy  (1899)  that  the  word  comes  from  cerdudo 
(cf.  also  cerdoso)  is  perhaps  along  the  right  track. 

If  it  be  granted  that  cerdo  is  derived  from  cerda,  and  not 
vice  versa,  it  is  clear  that  the  etymology  must  be  looked  for 
in  another  direction.  Here  Catalan,  as  in  so  many  other 
Iberian  questions,  is  of  assistance.  Labernia  (1839)  gives 
cerra  as  a  rare  form  of  cerda,  and  registers  serra  as  an  anti- 
quated equivalent;36  Esteve-Belvitges-Jugla  y  Font  (1803) 
give  cerra  as  rare,  serra  as  archaic,  and  cerda  only  as  an 
equivalent  of  cerra,  while  Saura  (1878)  gives  cerda  and 
cerra  without  remark.  Inasmuch  as  Lacavalleria  (1696) 
gives  only  cerres  or  serves  (pi.),  and  as  Torra  (1757;  first 
ed.,  inaccessible,  1650)  has  only  cerras  (pi.),  it  seems 
probable  that  the  true  Catalan  form  is  cerra,  and  that  cerda 
is  due  to  Spanish  influence.  The  fact  that  the  Majorcan 
form  is  cerra  and  not  cerda  37  lends  color  to  this  view.  It  is 
further  to  be  noted  that  a  form  cerros,  paralleling  Spanish 
cerdoso,  is  given  in  the  dictionary  of  "  F.  M.  F.  P.  y  M.  M." 
(1839),  as  well  as  in  the  pentaglot  dictionary  "per  una 

"This  view  is  supported  by  the  fact  that  cerdo  appears  in  none 
of  the  older  Portuguese  dictionaries  accessible  (e.  g.,  Barbosa,  1611; 
Bluteau,  1712;  Bluteau  and  Moraes,  1789),  and  that  the  Moraes 
of  1844  cites  no  author  who  uses  the  word.  It  seems  possible, 
indeed,  that  cerda  also  is  not  properly  a  Portuguese  word.  It  is 
not  found  in  Barbosa  (1611),  and,  though  Bluteau  and  Moraes 
(1789)  cite  it  from  the  writings  of  Vieira  (1608-1697),  Bluteau 
(1712)  says  that  cerdoso,  which  he  cites  from  Camoens,  is  derived 
from  the  Spanish  cerda,  and  translates  (1721)  the  Spanish  cerdas 
de  be8tia  by  sedas. 

*  In  Labernia  y  Esteller  (n.  d. )  we  find  the  same  statements, 
except  that  serra  is  not  described  as  archaic. 

"Cerra  is  the  only  form  given  by  Figuera  (1840)  and  by  the 
Diccionario  .  .  .  Mallorquin-castellano    por    unos    amigos    (1859). 


248  BLOISTDHEIM  [12 

Societat  de  Catalans"  (1839),  and  that  cerrud,  an  analogue 
of  cerdudo  (cf.  the  Abruzzese  cerrute,  "  Setoloso "  [Fina- 
more]),  appears  in  the  two  Majorcan  dictionaries  cited. 

Cerra,  of  which  serra  is  doubtless  a  mere  orthographical 
variant,  seems  clearly  to  come  from  the  Lat.  cirra,  a  femi- 
nine form  of  cirrus,  "  lock  of  hair,"  abundantly  attested  in 
grammarians  and  glossaries.  Some  of  the  manuscripts  con- 
taining cirra  are  as  old  as  the  seventh  century.  Cirrus 
is  used  in  Latin  of  horse  hair,  and  as  it  is  frequently  used 
in  the  plural,  it  could  readily  come  to  be  applied  to  a  single 
hair.  The  step  from  "  horse-hair  "  to  "  hog-bristle  "  is  not 
difficult. 

Cerda  appears  to  be  a  modification  of  cerra.  The  change 
from  rr  to  rd  is  perhaps  an  example  of  consonantal  dissimi- 
lation, parallel  to  the  well-known  cases  in  which  11  and  nn 
become  Id  and  nd.38  Cases  which  might  lend  some  color  to 
such  a  view  are  those  of  izquierdo  and  ardalear.  As  regards 
the  former,  Old  Spanish  has  also  the  form  esquerro,39  the 
normal  forms  in  Catalan  and  Provengal  have  no  -rd-,40  and 
the  Basque  form  would  appear,  sccording  to  the  evidence 
adduced  by  Diez  (p.  461),  to  be  usually  in  -rr-  rather  than 
in  -rd-,41  so  that  one  would  expect  -rr-  rather  than  -rd-  in  the 
primitive  Iberian  form.42     Ardalear,  cited  by  the  Academy 

38  Cf.   Baist,   Grober's   Grundriss,  r\  898. 

**The  only  example  of  this  form  known  to  me  is  found  in  the 
Poema  de  Jos4,  ed.  Janer,  185  c  [=ed.  Morf,  174  c]. 

40  Mistral  cites,  it  is  true,  s.  v.  esquerre,  a  feminine  Provengal 
form  in  -erdo,  but  as  the  old  examples  cited  by  Levy,  s.  v.  esquerre- 
tat  and  esquerrier,  have  only  -rr-,  it  would  seem  likely  that  the 
form  in  -rd-  is  due  to  Spanish  influence. 

"The  Basque  forms  in  -rd-  appear  to  rest  chiefly  upon  the  testi- 
mony of  Larramendi. 

"  The  view  suggested  in  regard  to  izquierdo  has  in  part  the 
support  of  the  high  authority  of  Professor  Baist  {ZRPh.  VI,  461), 
though  it  is  possible  that  he  no  longer  holds  to  a  view  advanced 
twenty-eight  years  ago.  Professor  Schuchardt  speaks  (ibid.,  xxiii, 
200)  of  the  word  as  existing  in  Sardinian,  without  mentioning  the 


13]  CERDO,    CERDA  249 

(1726)  from  the  Agricultura  of  Gabriel  Alonso  de  Herrera43 
(described  by  Senor  Menendez  y  Pelayo 44  as  "uno  de  los 
mas  clasicos  y  venerables "  of  Spanish  testi  di  lingua) ,  as 
well  as  the  participle  ardaleado,*5  which  are  the  equivalents 
of  ralear  and  raleado,  as  applied  to  grape-clusters,  in  the 
sense  of  "  thinning  out,  becoming  thin,"  would  appear  to  be 
derived  from  an  *arralear,  a  member  of  the  group  of  Iberian 
words  discussed  by  Cornu,40  which  take  on  a  prosthetic  a-.47 
The  rarity  and  uncertainty  of  corresponding  examples,  how- 
ever, would  lead  to  the  suggestion  that  perhaps  cerra  >  cerda 
through  the  influence  of  seda  and  its  derivate  cedazo.  This 
view  is  favored  by  the  existence  of  the  form  cerdazo,  given 
without  any  quotations  by  the  Diccionario  de  autoridades  as 
an  antiquated  form  of  cedazo.  As  a  number  of  examples 
of  forms  in  ced-  are  given,  cerdazo  would  appear  to  be  a 
rare  and  probably  local  variant  of  cedazo. 

The  hypothesis  of  a  connection  between  cerda  and  cirra 
is  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  cerda,  like  the  French  cer*8 

form  he  may  have  had  in  mind.  I  have  been  unable  to  find  a 
corresponding  word  in  Spano,  Hofmann,  or  Wagner,  and  do  not 
know  what  source  the  eminent  author  of  the  Vokalismus  des  Vul- 
garlateins  may  have  drawn  upon. 

"  The  passage  cited  by  the  Academy  runs  thus  in  the  edition  of 
Alcala  de  Henares  (1513;  lib.  II,  ch.  II,  f.  xxii,  v°)  :  "  Esta  vua  suele 
hardalear,  que  es  quedar  rala  en  los  razimos."  The  initial  h  is 
probably  merely  orthographic.  I  owe  the  verification  of  the  quota- 
tion to  the  courtesy  of  Dr.  W.  R.  Martin,  librarian  of  the  Hispanic 
Society  of  America.  The  copy  in  the  library  of  the  society  bears 
the  signature  "  Gabriel  Alonso  de  Herrera,"  and  appears  to  have 
formed  part  of  the  author's  own  library. 

**  In  the  Pr6logo,  p.  xxxvi,  of  Senor  Bonilla  y  San  Martin's 
Spanish  translation  (Madrid,  n.  d.)  of  Mr.  Fitzmaurice-Kelly's 
History  of  Spanish  Literature. 

"Given  in  the  Segunda  impresidn  (1770)  of  the  first  two  letters 
of  the  Diccionario  de  autoridades. 

"Ro.  xi,  77-78. 

■  The  form  arralar  is  well  attested. 

48  Cf.  Thomas,  Nouveaux  essais,  pp.  200-203. 


250  BLONDHEIM  [14 

means  a  "  bundle  of  flax  not  yet  hackled,"  while  cerro,  the 
regular  derivative  of  cirrus,  is  applied  to  flax  or  hemp  which 
has  been  hackled.  It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  part  of 
animals  on  which  cerdas  grow  is  called  cerro,  "  back."  The 
Diccionario  de  autoridades  cites  +wo  passages  which  are  of 
interest  in  this  connection.  The  first  comes  from  Lopez  de 
Gomara's  Conquista  de  Mejico,  which  says  of  the  iguana : 48 
"  Paresce  lagarto  de  los  muy  pintados,  tiene  la  cabeza  chica 
y  redonda,  el  cuerpo  gordo,  el  cerro  erizado  con  cerdas.  .  .  " 
The  second  citation  is  made  up  of  lines  from  Gongora's 
second  decima,50  in  which  he  speaks  of  the 

"  jabalf,    en    cuyos    cerros 
Se  levanta  un   escuadr6n 
De    cerdas  ..." 

**  Biblioteca  de  autores  espanoles,  xxn,  311  b.  The  Diccionario 
refers  merely  to  "  Hist,  de  Ind.  fol.  15,"  presumably  omitting  a 
reference  to  part  II,  the  Conquista  de  Me'jico  being  published  in  at 
least  one  instance  as  a  separately  paged  part  of  the  Historia  general 
de  las  Indias   (cf.  Gallardo,  in,  col.  453). 

60  Biblioteca  de  autores  espanoles,  xxxn,  482  b. 


THE  FRENCH  SHIFTS  IN  ADJECTIVE  POSITION 
AND  THEIR  ENGLISH  EQUIVALENTS 

BY 

Edward  C.  Armstrong 


In  a  review x  of  two  recent  works  on  the  adjective,  I 
attempted  to  classify  the  current  ideas  with  reference  to  the 
causes  which  determine  the  position  of  attributive  adjectives 
in  French.  It  is  there  set  forth  that  a  French  adjective, 
when  placed  after  its  noun,  serves  as  a  logical  distinguisher; 
when  placed  before,  as  an  emotional  attribution.2  A  logical 
distinguisher  marks  out,  from  the  specimens  in  question  of 
a  class  named  by  the  noun,  the  sub-class  which  the  speaker 
has  in  mind;  an  emotional  attribution  serves  to  indicate, 
with  reference  to  these  specimens,  the  speaker's  favorable 
or  unfavorable  impression :  the  specimens  are  adjudged  satis- 
factory or  noteworthy  or  faultless,  unsatisfactory  or  insignifi- 
cant or  defective.  Dans  le  mur  il  y  a  une  porte  basse, 
in  the  wall  there  is  a  door  of  slight  vertical  extension. 
TJn  homme  de  basse  stature,  a  man  of  defective 
height.  Son  chapeau  mou,  his  hat  of  yielding  texture. 
Son  joli  chapeau,  his  attractive  hat.  Son  grand  cha- 
peau,   his  notably  big  hat.3 

1  Modern  Language  Notes,  vol.  xxin,  pp.  149-154. 

'Compare  Vinet,  Chrestomathie  francaise,*  II,  p.  117;  Grober, 
Grundriss,  I2,  p.  273.  A  small  group  of  adjectives,  for  which  emo- 
tional attribution  is  the  commoner  function,  precede  the  noun  also 
in  the  rarer  cases  in  which  they  serve  to  distinguish  a  sub-class. 
For  these,  see  infra,  p.  7]. 

*  Since  grand  is  one  of  the  adjectives  for  which  fore-position  is 
as  a  rule  generalized,  son  grand  chapeau  may  also  mean:  that  one 
of  his  hats  which  is  distinguished  from  the  others  by  its  size. 

1]  251 


252  ARMSTRONG  [2 

If  the  foregoing  distinction  exists,  and  the  French  speaker, 
by  utilizing  his  power  to  change  the  place  of  the  adjective, 
thus  distinctly  modifies  its  character,  the  question  presents 
itself  immediately  whether  it  can  then  be  asserted  as  a  gen- 
eral principle  of  language  that  the  place  after  the  noun  is 
the  natural  position  of  logical  subdividers,  the  place  before 
the  noun  the  natural  position  of  emotional  epithets.  Even 
if  this  holds  good  for  French,  it  would  not  necessarily  do  so 
for  other  speeches;  and  to  assume  the  universality  of  its 
application  would  at  least  imply  a  wide  difference  in  the 
mental  attitude  of  different  peoples  during  the  period  when 
they  were  forming  their  habits  in  adjective  position.  Thus, 
a  comparison  of  German  and  English  with  Romance  positions 
would  then  seem  to  indicate,  on  the  part  of  the  Teutons,  a 
most  surprising  predominence  of  a  tendency  to  interpret  the 
adjective  as  an  epithet.  In  case,  therefore,  it  should  be 
strongly  indicated  that  logical  distinction  and  emotional 
attribution  are,  in  some  languages  at  least,  not  associated 
with  post-position  and  fore-position,  it  might  become  advis- 
able to  review  the  French  status  in  order  to  determine 
whether,  after  all,  the  shift  in  position  is  there  the  deter- 
mining factor  of  the  differing  values,  or  whether  it  is  only 
an  accompanying  phenomenon. 

A  further  question  presenting  itself  is  whether  a  language 
which,  like  the  English,  is  not  at  liberty  to  vary  the  position 
of  attributive  adjectives  has  other  methods  of  indicating  the 
shadings  of  meaning  that,  in  French,  can  be  so  delicately 
differentiated  by  the  shift  in  word  order.  To  seek  an  answer 
to  these  questions  is  the  purpose  of  the  present  paper. 

Let  us  first  consider  in  detail  the  different  types  of  French 
epithets,  and  compare  with  them  the  corresponding  English 
significations.  In  the  first  place,  a  number  of  French  adjec- 
tives can,  at  times,  instead  of  serving  to  distinguish  a  sub- 
class, simply  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  substantive 
to  which  they  are  attached  possesses  in  extensive  or  in  com- 


3]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  253 

plete  measure  the  qualities  belonging  to  its  class.  The  adjec- 
tive becomes  thereby  merely  augmentative  or  meliorative, 
indicating  the  speaker's  approval  of  the  selection  of  the 
specimen  in  question  as  an  example  of  the  type  named  by  the 
substantive.  Compare:  c'est  un  enfant  parfait  (i.  e.,  a 
child  without  faults:  distinguishing  adjective),  and:  c'est  un 
parfait  enfant  (i.  e.,  a  perfect  specimen  of  the  type 
''child":  epithet). 

If  French  has,  by  means  of  position,  this  ready  method  of 
indicating  the  two  values  of  the  adjective,  the  English  has 
also  a  means  to  accomplish  the  same  result.  Instead  of 
varying  the  position,  it  differentiates  by  means  of  differences 
in  the  stress  and  in  the  closeness  of  union  of  the  two  ele- 
ments. In  certain  cases,  we  find  a  clearly  noticeable  stress 
resting  upon  the  adjective.  The  noun  also  is  accented,  so 
that  the  two  elements  retain  their  independence  and  have 
between  them  an  appreciable  pause.  In  other  cases  the 
stress  on  the  adjective  is  so  light  that  the  adjective  is  practi- 
cally proclitic;  the  substantive  is  then  heavily  stressed  and 
no  pause  is  possible  between  adjective  and  noun.  Compare: 
he  is  a  per' feet  \  child',  and :  he  is  a  perfect  child'.  Note 
the  difference  between :  he  has  an  ac'tive  |  in'terest  in  the 
business,  and:  he  has  an  active  in'terest  in  the  business; 
between  a  brave'  |  sol'dier  and  a  brave  sol'dier;  between  a 
soft'  |  bed'  and  a  soft  bed';  between:  now  that  he  is  down 
on  the  Irish,  he  has  a  French'  \  cook',  and:  he  will  not  so 
much  as  speak  to  his  former  friends,  now  that  he  has  a 
French  cook'.  The  list  of  examples  showing  similar  dis- 
tinctions could  be  indefinitely  lengthened.  It  is  manifest 
that  in  the  English  adjectives  cited  accentuation  followed  by 
a  pause  corresponds  to  French  post-position. 

It  is  perfectly  natural  that  this  difference  in  the  separation 
of  the  two  elements  and  in  their  accentuation  should  mani- 
fest itself.  Decorative  epithets,  despite  their  emotional  trend, 
should  not  themselves  be  stressed,  but  should  instead  increase 


254  ARMSTRONG  [4 

the  stress  on  the  substantive;  for  decorative  epithets  are  not 
emotional  in  the  sense  of  magnifying  their  own  importance, 
but  are  emotional  attributes  of  the  noun,  fixing  attention  on 
the  specimen  mentioned  as  awakening  admiration  or  surprise 
by  the  extent  of  its  participation  in  the  qualities  belonging 
to  the  class.  For  this  same  reason,  it  is  also  natural  that 
adjectives  constituting  emotional  attributes  should  be  very 
closely  united  with  the  substantive;  and  further  that,  when 
the  adjective  logically  distinguishes,  there  should  be  a  pause 
between  the  two  elements.  In  fact,  such  a  pause  exists,  not 
alone  in  English,  but  in  French  as  well,  and  is  there  suffi- 
ciently marked  to  render  infrequent,  in  colloquial  French, 
liaison  between  a  noun  and  a  following  (that  is,  a  distin- 
guishing) adjective.     Un  petit  enfant  |  americain. 

The  fore-position  of  the  French  adjective  and  proclisis  of 
the  English  adjective  may  also  be  observed  when  the  adjective, 
instead  of  the  value  of  a  mere  "  plus,"  which  obtains  in  the 
examples  so  far  considered,  takes  on  that  of  a  mere  "  minus  " ; 
namely,  when  the  adjective  is  diminishing  or  pejorative  in 
character.  It  is  still  an  emotional  attribution,  and  indicates 
the  displeasure,  condescension,  or  surprise  awakened  by  the 
meagre  participation  of  the  individual  in  qualities  naturally 
pertaining  to  the  class,  or  by  the  meagre  participation  of  the 
class  in  qualities  usually  present  in  ideally  developed  entities. 
Compare,  for  the  French,  un  6crivain  me  chant  (a  writer 
who  is  characterized  by  malevolence:  distinguishing  adjec- 
tive) with  un  mechant  ecrivain  (an  unsatisfactory  speci- 
men of  the  type  "writer";  a  sorry  writer:  epithet);  une 
jeune  fllle  mince  with  une  mince  dot;  un  domestique 
simple  with  un  simple  domestique;  and,  for  the  Eng- 
lish, an  old'  |  hat'  with  an  old  hat' ;  a  lit' tie  \  house'  with  a 
little  house';  a  wretch'ed  |  sin'ner  with  a  wretched  sin'ner; 
a  sim'ple  \  ser'vant  with  a  simple  ser'vant. 

In  the  uses  given  above, .  the  adjective  as  an  emotional 
attribution  stands  in  the  relation  to  its  substantive  of  an 


5]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  255 

augment  or  a  detractor.  Another  case  where  the  adjective 
does  not,  and  in  fact  can  not,  serve  to  distinguish  a  sub-class 
is  when  it  is  known  to  constitute  a  quality  of  the  class  as 
a  whole;  that  is,  when  it  forms  one  of  the  essential  elements 
of  the  concept.  If  it  is  then  detached  and  mentioned,  this 
will  be  done  solely  because  it  possesses  an  augmentative  or 
a  detractive  value  which  the  speaker  utilizes  to  give  an  in- 
dication of  his  emotional  attitude  toward  the  substantive 
concept.  Here  again  we  naturally  find  conformity  to  the 
laws  for  decorative  epithets;  the  adjective  joining  the  noun 
proclitically  in  the  English,  and  preceding  in  the  French. 
Compare,  for  the  French,  une  nuit  blanche  with 
la  blanche  neige  ;  une  femme  savante  with  un 
savant  professeur  du  Sanscrit;  and,  for  the  English: 
who  ever  saw  a  gen'tle  \  hye'na?  with:  he  was  as  mild 
as  a  gentle  lamb';  this  region  abounds  in  the  hard'  |  varieties 
of  wood  with :  /  slept  on  the  hard  floor'. 

If  there  is  considered  to  exist  only  one  member  of  the 
class  named  by  the  substantive,  the  adjective  must  of  neces- 
sity possess  the  character  just  described  and  be  augmentative 
or  detractive:  le  paresseux  Henri,  la  catholique 
Espagne ;  lazy  Hen'ry,  Catholic  Spain'.  In  many  instances, 
however,  a  substantive  usually  applied  to  a  single  definite 
individual  may  also  be  looked  upon  as  an  appellative  for  the 
persons  who  happen  to  bear  that  name;  or  an  individual 
designated  by  the  substantive  may  be  considered  as  being 
made  up  of  separate  individualities  corresponding  to  his 
different  epochs  or  qualities.  When  viewed  in  one  of  these 
two  lights,  the  substantive  may  be  qualified  by  a  distinguish- 
ing adjective:  Henri  jeune,  l'Angleterre  catholique; 
big'  |  Hen'ry,  Cath'olic  \  Eng'land.  While  this  is  possible,  and 
in  some  instances  not  infrequent,  there  exists  for  many  indi- 
vidual cases  in  both  languages  a  tendency  to  avoid  the  con- 
struction and  to  employ  paraphrases,  such  as  Henri 
pendant    sa    jeunesse;     the  Catholic  portion  of  England; 


256  ARMSTRONG  [6 

and  a  French  Henri  paresseux  equivalent  to  la'zy  Hen'ry, 
or  an  English  drunk'  Cae'sar  for  Cesar  saoul  are  quite 
excluded. 

A  clear-cut  example  of  the  possible  two-fold  aspect  of 
proper  names  as  at  times  forming  a  class  composed  of  a 
single  member,  and  at  times  constituting  appellatives,  is  fur- 
nished me  by  one  of  my  friends.  He  grew  up  on  his  father's 
farm,  on  which  there  was  another  and  much  larger  boy, 
whose  name,  like  his,  was  Charles.  My  friend  was  called 
Charley,  and,  in  order  to  distinguish  between  the  two,  the 
second  Charles  was  regularly  termed  big'  Char'ley.  The  son 
grew  up  and  quitted  the  farm;  and  when,  after  a  prolonged 
absence,  he  returned  for  a  visit,  he  found  that  the  adjective 
was  still  commonly  attached  to  the  name  of  his  boyhood 
companion,  but  that,  instead  of  being  big'  Char'ley,  he  had 
now  become  big  Char'ley.  The  situation  which  had  created 
the  need  for  a  distinguishing  adjective  having  disappeared, 
the  word  "  big  "  had  shifted  over  and  become  an  augmentative. 

It  is  important  to  note  at  this  point  that  in  English  as  in 
French  a  quality  not  common  to  the  whole  class  named  by 
the  substantive  is  liable  to  assume  the  character  of  an  aug- 
mentative or  detractive  attribution  if  it  has  already  been 
established  as  a  quality  of  a  definite  individual  under  dis- 
cussion. "When  the  speaker  employs  an  adjective  which 
serves  to  posit  for  a  second  time  a  quality  already  imputed 
to  the  individual  named  by  the  substantive,  if  he  makes 
this  repetition  for  the  purpose  of  recalling  or  emphasizing 
that  the  quality  constitutes  a  distinguishing  trait,  the  adjec- 
tive so  employed  naturally  receives  the  treatment  accorded 
a  distinguishing  adjective;  but  if  he  assumes  that  its  dis* 
tinguishing  character  is  still  sufficiently  present  and  promi- 
nent in  the  hearer's  mind,  he  may  look  on  the  adjective  as 
now  constituting  an  ornamental  epithet.  Thus  of  a  lawyer 
whose  mildness  is  well  known  or  has  been  recently  remarked 
upon,  or  of  whom  an  incident  has  been  related  tending  to  es- 
tablish mildness  as  an  element  of  his  character,  we  can  per- 


7]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  257 

fectly  well  say  in  French  ce  docile  avocat,  or  employ  in 
English  a  proclitic  adjective :  this  timid  law'yer. 

A  group  of  the  commonest  French  adjectives,  such  as 
bon,  mauvais,  jeune,  vieux,  etc.,  stand  regularly  before 
the  noun,  not  only  when  augmentative  or  detractive,  but 
even  when  they  serve  to  distinguish  a  sub-class.  All  of  these 
are  adjectives  which  readily  lend  themselves  to  augmentative 
or  detractive  attribution,  so  that  they  would  naturally  occur 
oftener  before  the  noun  than  after  it,  and  at  the  period  of 
the  earliest  French  written  monuments  the  dominant  position 
had  already  been  generalized,  creating  a  stereotyped  word  order 
which  still  persists.  No  similar  irregular  treatment  marks 
the  corresponding  English  adjectives,  which  conform  to  the 
general  laws  of  English  adjective  accentuation. 

Epithet  and  distinguishing  adjective  may  alike  unite  with 
nouns  to  form  compound  words,  which  are  then  restricted  to 
some  one  meaning  among  those  of  which  they  are  potentially 
capable.  When,  in  such  cases,  the  French  adjective  precedes 
its  substantive,  no  means  exists  of  distinguishing  for  the  ear 
that  the  speaker's  intent  is  to  use  the  phrase  as  a  compound. 
Un  bon  mot,  un  bonhomme,  un  grand-pere,  une  sage- 
femme  have  not  a  stress  distinctive  from  that  of  un  bon 
lit,  un  bon  onele,  un  grand  poids,  une  sage  reponse. 
In  consequence  of  this,  the  establishment  of  such  a 
compound  value  has  the  result  of  driving  out  the  remain- 
ing possible  meanings  of  the  given  combination,  which 
ha\e  then  to  be  expressed  in  some  other  way.  For 
example,  c'est  un  bon  homme  is  not  used  in  the 
meaning:  he  is  a  good  man.  When  the  French  adjective 
follows  its  substantive,  some  slight  differentiation  can  be 
made,  since  the  light  pause  which  exists  between  noun  and 
distinguishing  adjective  is  eliminated  if  they  unite  into  a 
compound  noun;  but  this  difference  is  not  sufficiently  marked 
to  prevent  the  compound  form  from  driving  out,  as  a  rule, 
the  other  acceptations.  Compare  une  ville  |  neuve  and 
Villeneuve ;   un  gout  |  aigre  and  du  vinaigre ;  du  marbre 

16 


258  ARMSTRONG  [8 

|  blanc  and  du  fer-blanc.  In  this  matter  of  recognizing 
compounds,  English  has  a  distinct  advantage.  When  the 
elements  of  the  combination  are  not  merged,  the  noun 
keeps  its  accent;  but  if  the  whole  is  felt  as  a  single  word, 
the  stress,  in  accord  with  the  general  tendency  of  English 
word  accent,  shifts  to  the  beginning;  i.  e.,  falls  on 
the  adjective,  the  noun  assuming  an  enclitic  relation  to 
this  initial  stress.  Thus  the  fused  and  the  unfused  forms 
can  stand  side  by  side  and  still  be  distinguished;  as, 
for  example,  in  a  grand  fath'er  and  a  grand'  father;  a 
round'  \  ta'ble  and  the  Knights  of  the  Round' '-table ;  a  gen'tle  \ 
wom'an,  a  gentle  worn' an  and  a  gen'tlewoman.  In  a  number 
of  cases,  it  is  difficult  to  determine  whether  the  English  adjec- 
tive, in  the  stage  antecedent  to  its  forming  with  the  noun 
a  compound  word,  was  a  distinguisher  or  an  epithet.  In 
such  compounds  as  blackbird,  paleface,  red-breast,  White- 
House,  the  adjective  may  in  the  beginning  have  served  to 
point  out  a  distinguishing  mark,  or  it  may  have  been  an 
epithet  indicating  the  agreeable  or  disagreeable  sensation 
evoked  in  the  mind  of  the  speaker  by  the  appearance  of  the 
individual  named.  In  the  French,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
original  character  of  the  adjective  is,  of  course,  evident  from 
its  position.  Thus  the  adjective  was  the  mark  of  a  sub-class 
in  pivert,  Esprit-Saint,  chevau-lgger,  coffre-fort,  amour- 
propre;  it  was  originally  augmentative  or  detractive  in 
rouge-gorge,  blanc-bec,  blanc-manger,  Saint-Siege,  bas- 
fond,   vif-argent,   beau-flls,    frane-maeon. 

Adjectives  which  are  emotional  by  their  meaning  are  not 
forced,  on  this  account,  to  precede  the  French  noun.  They 
can  just  as  readily  as  any  other  adjectives  serve  to  name 
distinguishing  qualities,  and  this  can  still  be  true  when  they 
are  so  enunciated  as  to  indicate  that  the  speaker  is  stirred 
to  the  highest  degree.  They  will  be  placed  before  the  sub- 
stantive only  under  the  same  conditions  as  other  adjectives; 
namely,  when  they  constitute  a  mere  augment  or  diminisher 
of   the   substantive;   that   is,   when   they  contribute   to   the 


9]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  259 

stress  on  the  noun  rather  than  direct  attention  to  the  stress 
on  themselves.  Thus  the  French  does  not  especially  fa- 
vor frequent  antecedence  for  such  of  them  as  have  pre- 
served a  clear-cut,  distinctive  meaning.  Bon  and  mauvais, 
which  have  lost  most  of  their  content"  and  have  become 
hardly  more  than  a  plus  and  a  minus  sign,  stand  regu- 
larly before  the  noun;  heureux  and  triste,  which  have 
a  more  specific  content,  generally  follow,  and  in  the  in- 
stances where  they  stand  first  hardly  exceed  in  value  bon 
and  mauvais;  while  an  author  who  places  frequently 
at  the  front  such  adjectives  as  joyeux  or  terrible,4  marks 
out  his  style  as  feeble  and  ineffective.  Similarly,  in 
English,  good  and  bad  are  frequently  proclitic;  glad  and  sad 
not  as  commonly  so;  while  joyful  and  terrible  rarely  fail  to 
preserve  their  full  accent.  It  may  be  noted  in  this  connec- 
tion that  to  augment  further  the  emotional  intensity  of 
emotional  adjectives  the  English  increases  the  force  of  their 
accent,  prolonging,  at  the  same  time,  the  pause  between  the 
adjective  and  the  noun.  The  French,  on  its  side,  prolongs 
the  pause  between  the  noun  and  the  adjective,  and  shows  a 
certain  tendency,  if  the  number  of  syllables  permits  this 
differentiation,  to  shift  the  accent  of  the  adjective  to 
the  initial  syllable  : 5  ter"rible  \  news';  une  nouvelle  | 
ter'rible. 

No  other  rhetorical  element  causes  as  frequent  disturb- 
ance in  French  adjective  position  as  does  chiasmus.  The 
desire  to  fix  the  attention  upon  the  unity  of  two  kindred 
ideas,  or  to  bring  out  the  diversity  between  two  that  are 
opposed,  seems  at  times  the  sole  motive  in  the  placing  of 
a  pair  of  adjectives  modifying  two  nouns  which  happen  to 
be  located  in  proximity  to  one  another.  Yet  it  is  interesting 
to  note  how  rarely,  in  the  works  of  the  more  careful  authors, 

*  Bourget,  who  is  rather  over-fond  of  fore-position,  not  infrequently 
offers  such  instances  as:  TJn  malade  qui,  dans  son  agonie,  lais- 
serait   peut-etre    echapper  un   terrible   secret,   Emigre" ,  p.  42. 

B  See  Passy,  Petite  phone'tique  compare'e,  Leipzig,  1906,  pp.  33-35. 


260  ARMSTRONG  [10 

adjectives  in  such  collocations  are  in  pronounced  disaccord 
with  the  law  for  the  position  of  distinguishing  adjective  and 
epithet.  In  the  following  examples,  chosen  at  random, 
chiasmus  doubtless  determines  the  position  of  the  adjectives, 
but  in  no  one  of  these  cases  is  it  impossible  to  reconcile  their 
location  with  the  principles  treated  in  this  paper. 

Si  ceux-la  sont  damnes,  qui  furent  amateurs  Du  parler  clair  et 
du  clair  sourire  des  dames,  Helas!  le  Paradis  n'aura  plus  de  chan- 
teurs,  A.  France,  Poesies,  82. — De  petits  mari6s  pauvres  et  leur 
pauvre  compagnie  attendaient,  id.,  M.  Bergeret,  76. — La  princesse 
.  .  .  1'aimait  avec  une  mollesse  fougueuse,  avec  une  as>tucieuse 
sensuality  dont  le  faible  Berthier  etait  trouble'  pour  la  vie,  id.,  Puits 
de  Ste.  Claire,  292. — lis  s'engagerent  sur  la  route  bleue,  bordee  de 
noir  feuillage,  dans  la  nuit  silencieuse,  id.,  M.  Bergeret,  144. — A 
cause  du  froid  acre  de  ce  dur  pays,  Bourget,  Emigre",  219. — Apres 
le  dernier  cierge  6teint,  nuit  complete  et  complete  silence,  Arene, 
Domnine,  39. — Vous  enseignez  aux  jeunes  poetes  .  .  .  l'amour  de 
la  po6sie  pure  et  du  pur  langage  franchise,  De  Her&iia,  Trophies, 
dedication. — Une  fatigue  immense,  un  immense  degout  l'enva- 
hissait,  Prevost,  Chonchette,  118. — Une  barbe  longue  terminait  de 
longs  favoris,  Rosny,  Affaire  Derive,  23. — Dont  la  robuste  vieillesse 
faisait  honte  aux  maturites  6  puisnes  d'aujourd'hui,  Bourget, 
Emigre",  56. — Content  des  elections  municipales  qui  n'avaient  fait 
sortir  ni  nouvelles  idees,  ni  hommes  nouveaux,  A.  France,  Or  me 
du  mail,  176. — Ayant  en  elle  le  double  amour  qu'ils  reprgsentent : 
le  volontaire  appel  a  la  chastete,  et  l'appel  involontaire  au 
sauvage  amour,  Aicard,  Maurin  des  Maures,  279. 


II 


The  foregoing  comparison  of  English  accentuation  with 
French  adjective  position  seems  to  show  that  English  proclisis 
is  the  correspondent  to  French  fore-position,  and  to  furnish 
examples  of  an  English  accentual  equivalent  for  French  post- 
position. It  is  now  necessary  to  consider  whether  the  examples 
thus  far  cited  are  typical  of  the  whole  of  English  usage : 
whether  the  epithet  will  uniformly  be  found  to  be  proclitic, 
and  the  distinguishing  adjective  as  uniformly  be  found  to 


11]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  261 

be  accented.     An  observation  of  English  as  spoken  and  read 
seems  to  bear  out  the  following  conclusions: 

(1)  Light  stress  or  proclisis.  An  adjective  used  as  an 
epithet  is  uniformly  light-stressed. 

(2)  Normal  stress.  Distinguishing  adjectives  are  accent- 
ed, but  the  amount  of  stress  they  receive  varies  widely,  at 
times  being  inferior  to,  and  at  times  exceeding,  the  stress  on 
the  noun.  Expiratory  force  which  approximates  or  equals, 
but  does  not  exceed,  that  on  the  following  noun  may  be  termed 
normal  stress.  Such  stress  constitutes  the  usual  accentuation 
of  distinguishing  adjectives. 

(3)  Heavy  stress.  The  stress  on  the  adjective  will  be 
greater  than  that  on  the  noun,  if  it  is  desired  to  give  promi- 
nence to  the  distinguishing  character  of  the  adjective.  This 
will  be  the  case  (a)  when  the  intent  is  to  indicate  that  the 
quality  in  question  is  present  to  a  degree  so  exceptional  that 
it  constitutes  the  preeminent  mark  of  the  individual;  (b) 
when  the  quality  in  question  is  contrasted  with  other  qualities, 
or  when  the  individual's  possession  of  the  quality  is  contrasted 
with  the  absence  of  it  from  other  members  of  the  class. 

The  following  illustrations  may  serve  to  render  the  pre- 
ceding statement  clearer: 

He  lives  alone  in  an  ugly  little  house'  (=  light  stress; 
French:  une  vilaine  petite  maison). — You  can  easily  find 
his  residence:  he  lives  near  the  church  in  an  ug'ly  house' 
(=  normal  stress;  une  maison  assez  laide). — Look  at  that 
ug'ly  house'  !  (=  heavy  stress,  a;  regardez  comme  cette 
maison  est  vilaine  ! ) . — Out  of  all  the  group  he  chose  the 
ug'ly  house'  (=  heavy  stress,  b;  la  maison  laide ) . — It  is  an 
ug'ly  house',  but  it  is  commodious  (=  heavy  stress  b;  il  est 
vrai  que  la  maison  est  laide  mais  ....).  Further 
examples  are: 

(Light  stress)  He  writes  a  fine  hand'  (une  belle  ecriture). 
— We  had  a  fine  walk'  ( une  belle  promenade) . — I  am 
nothing  but  a  humble  police'man  (un  humble  agent  de 
police). 


262  ARMSTRONG  [12 

(Normal  stress)  The  whole  letter  was  written  in  a  fine' 
hand'  (une  ecriture  fine). — We  rarely  see  a  hum'ble 
police'man  (un  agent  humble). — Then  he  told  us  an 
ama'zing  sto'ry  about  his  early  adventures  ( une  histoire 
etonnante ) . — I  should  like  a  cup  of  strong'  tea'  and  a  few 
biscuits  (de  the  un  peu  fort). — Just  then  a  tall'  man' 
entered  (un  homme  de  haute  tattle). — He  stooped  and 
picked  a  red'  flow'er  growing  at  his  feet  (une  fleur  rouge). 

(Heavy  stress,  a)  He  writes  a  fine'  hand'  !  (une  ecriture 
fort  belle). — We  had  a  fine'  walk'  !  (une  promenade  tout 
a  fait  charmante  ) . — He  told  an  ama'zing  sto'ry  !  (  une 
histoire  tres  dtonnante). 

(Heavy  stress,  b)  I  like  strong'  tea',  but  I  object  to  its 
being  bitter  ( je  veux  bien  que  mon  the  soit  fort, 
mais  .  .  .  ). — Even  a  tall'  man'  can  stand  erect  in  this 
doorway  (un  homme  de  haute  tattle). — From  among  the 
various  colors  he  chose  a  red'  flow'er  (  une  fleur  rouge). 

Thus  we  see  that  distinguishing  adjectives  will  have  either 
the  normal  or  the  heavy  stress.  For  both  of  these,  the  same 
accent  symbol  has  been  used  throughout  this  paper,  but  it 
is  important  to  keep  in  mind  the  existence  of  the  two  types; 
otherwise  there  is  a  risk  of  confusing  normal  stress  with  light 
stress,  and  of  being  misled  into  thinking  that,  when  the  heavy 
stress  is  absent  from  a  distinguishing  adjective,  the  adjective 
is  therefore  proclitic.  It  may  be  further  noted  that,  where  the 
French  feels  the  need  of  making  the  distinction  which  the 
English  renders  by  heavy  stress,  it  usually  accomplishes  this 
either  by  adding  an  intensive  adverb  to  the  adjective,  or  by 
recasting  the  sentence  in  such  a  way  as  to  increase  the  promi- 
nence of  the  adjective. 

In  order  to  simplify  as  far  as  possible  the  discussion, 
expiratory  force  is  the  only  element  in  accent  that  has  so 
far  been  considered.  The  other  main  element  involved,  the 
difference  in  pitch  which  is  invariably  associated  with  differ- 
ence in  stress,  is  subject  to  modification  by  factors  extraneous 
to  the  subject  of  this  paper.     In  general,  greater  expiratory 


13]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  263 

force  and  higher  pitch  are  regularly  associated;  but  as  this 
accent-pitch  frequently  shades  off,  even  within  the  same 
syllable,  into  a  much  lower  or  a  much  higher  note  due 
to  the  sentence  inflexion,  it  is  difficult  to  analyze  it  simply 
with  the  aid  of  the  ear.6 

In  many  of  the  sentences  used  as  illustrations,  another 
speaker  might  accent  the  adjectives  in  a  different  fashion,  or 
my  own  accentuation  might  vary  according  to  the  context. 
This  is  natural,  but  it  implies,  not  an  invalidation  of  the  fore- 
going analysis,  but  a  change  in  the  character  of  the  adjective 
according  to  the  setting,  or  even  according  to  the  speaker's 
point  of  view.  In  written  English,  more  responsibility  is 
thrown  on  the  reader  for  the  interpretation  of  the  character 
of  the  adjective  than  in  written  French,  since  the  adjective 
6tress,  which  would  furnish  in  English  the  key,  is  not  indi- 
cated and  must  be  decided  from  the  context  or  from  the 
reader's  own  feeling.  It  should,  however,  be  recognized  that 
the  question  of  how  near  the  "  light-stressed "  adjective 
approaches  to  being  fully  proclitic,  and  the  exact  amount  of 
stress  that  should  be  embraced  in  the  term  "  normal-stress," 
are  problems  too  delicate  for  the  lines  of  demarcation  to  be 
rigorously  determined  by  the  ear,  particularly  by  the  ear  of 
a  single  observer.7 

•An  effort  to  note  by  the  ear  and  to  indicate  by  means  of  curved 
lines  the  pitch  of  the  sounds  and  syllables  in  specimens  of  English, 
French  and  German  prose  and  verse  has  been  made  by  Daniel  Jones  in 
Intonation  Curves,  Leipzig,  Teubner,  1909,  80  pp.  Professor  Hermann 
Collitz  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University  is  making  a  careful  study 
of  the  pitch  of  adjectives  in  connected  discourse;  I  am  indebted  to 
him  for  helpful  criticisms  and  suggestions,  and  for  the  term 
"  normal "  as  applied  to  adjectives  with  the  prevailing  accentuation. 

'Sweet  (Phil.  Soc.  Transactions,  1880-81:  Proceedings,  pp.  4-6, 
and  pp.  26-27 ;  and  Primer  of  Spoken  English*  Oxford,  1906,  pp.  2-3, 
and  pp.  27-31)  has  discussed  the  accent  of  word  combinations, 
paying  special  attention  to  the  stress  of  compound  words.  Of  adjec- 
tives he  merely  says  (Primer,  p.  29)  that  in  the  combination  of 
adjectives  with  nouns  even  stress  is  the  rule.     Svedelius    ("Sur  la 


264  ARMSTRONG  [14 

It  is  interesting  to  parallel  corresponding  passages  in 
French  and  English  with  a  view  to  comparing  the  treatment 
of  the  adjectives.  An  experiment  upon  one  of  Poe's  stories 
and  Charles  Baudelaire's  translation  led  me  to  mistrust  the 
use  of  an  English  text  as  the  basis,  since  the  translator  seems 
by  the  placing  of  the  English  adjectives  to  be  disposed  to 
an  abnormally  frequent  use  of  fore-position.  This  disturbing 
element  can  be  eliminated  if  a  work  is  chosen  for  which  the 
French  text  forms  the  original  version,  though  the  delicate 
shadings  given  by  the  French  position  is  then  not  infrequently 
missing  from  the  translation. 

Since  in  many  instances  the  interpretation  of  the  character 
of  the  adjectives  is  a  matter  of  view  point,  as  may  be  seen 
from  the  possibility  of  hesitating,  in  not  a  few  cases  within 
the  French  itself,  between  fore-position  and  post-position, 
and  since  the  differences  in  mental  attitude  toward  the  specific 
adjectives  are  likely  to  be  numerous  when  we  pass  from  the 
French  to  another  language,  it  is  to  be  anticipated  that  there 
will  be  a  lack  of  exact  correspondence  in  individual  instances 
between  French  position  and  English  stress.  Further,  as  the 
accentual  interpretation  of  an  English  passage  is  difficult 
to  determine  with  accuracy  and  depends  upon  the  reader, 
the  elements  of  uncertainty  are  too  numerous  to  make  definite 
statistics  attainable,  or  the  attempt  to  attain  them  of  any 
great  value.  I  have,  however,  ventured  to  count  and  classify 
the  adjective  usage  in  the  opening  pages  of  France's  Crime 
de  Sylvestre  Bonnard,8  using  for  the  English  the  translation 
of  Lafcadio  Hearn.9 

place  de  l'adjectif  qualificatif  frangais,"  M6langes-Wahlund,  Macon, 
1896,  pp.  75-93)  suggested  a  parallelism  between  position  in  the 
French  adjective .  and  stress  in  the  German,  a  suggestion  which  met 
with  disapproval  from  the  critics  (See  Tobler,  ASNS.,  Vol.  96,  p. 
428). 

8  Paris,  Calmann-L6vy,  pp.  1-17. 

•New  York,  Harper,  1890,  pp.  1-14.  For  a  portion  of  the  text 
of  the  comparison  see  the  end  of  this  chapter. 


15]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  265 

I  include  only  those  adjectives  of  the  French  text  preserved 
as  attributive  adjectives  in  the  English  translation.  Accord- 
ing to  my  reading  of  the  adjective  accent  in  the  English,  I 
found  the  following  situation :  (a)  Out  of  the  cases  of  French 
post-position  (61  in  all),  the  English  shows  normal  stress 
or  heavy  stress  in  58  cases,  and  light  stress  in  3  cases;  or 
almost  complete  agreement,  (b)  In  the  cases  of  fore-position 
where  the  adjectives  are  such  as  would  precede  even  if  they 
serve  to  distinguish  (50  in  all),  the  English  shows  light  stress 
in  33  cases,  and  normal  stress  or  heavy  stress  in  17  cases. 
This  class  is  naturally  of  little  value  for  purposes  of  compari- 
son, (c)  There  are  31  other  cases  of  fore-position.  Here 
the  light  stress  which  in  English  would  represent  the  equiv- 
alent occurs  in  only  14  cases,  the  other  17  having  normal  stress 
or  heavy  stress. 

A  similar  analysis  of  the  first  chapter  of  Merimee's 
Colomba  10  shows  agreement  according  to  my  interpretation, 
as  follows:  for  (a),  in  24  cases  out  of  24;  for  (&),  in  10 
cases  out  of  14;  for  (c),  in  only  4  cases  out  of  11. 

The  above  figures  would  indicate  that  the  tendency  to 
interpret  adjectives  as  epithets,  in  which  modern  French,  and 
particularly  modern  conversational  French,  shows  moderation, 
is  even  less  in  vogue  in  English.  That  such  a  tendency 
is  not  wholly  lacking  in  English  appears  with  especial  clear- 
ness in  many  of  the  examples  of  group  (&),  but  the  English 
tends  strongly  the  other  way.  In  fact  the  testimony  for  this 
in  tne  passages  I  have  chosen  is  possibly  even  more  pronounced 
than  my  figures  indicate,  since  I  believe  that  the  average 
reader,  where  his  interpretation  differs  from  mine,  would 
decrease  rather  than  increase  the  number  of  cases  of  light 
stress. 

It  is  manifest  that  the  general  equivalence  between  French 
position  and  English  accent  is  too  difficult  of  application  and 

10  Boston,  Heath,  1899;  and  English  translation  by  the  Lady  Mary 
Loyd,  New  York,  Collier,  1901. 


266  ARMSTRONG  [16 

too  subjective  in  character  to  be  of  the  slightest  value  as  a 
rule  of  thumb;  and  yet  a  comprehension  of  the  principle 
conduces  to  a  clearer  perception  of  the  delicate  and  delicious 
savor  of  a  French  adjective  discriminatingly  placed. 

As  to  the  relative  merit  of  the  methods  employed  in  the 
two  languages  to  differentiate  between  distinguishing  adjec- 
tives and  epithets,  each  system  has  its  advantages.  The 
English  provides  a  ready  and  effective  means  for  a  speaker 
to  give  the  desired  shading  as  he  renders  his  thought  into 
words,  but  does  not  as  satisfactorily  lend  itself  to  the  reconsti- 
tution  of  an  author's  thought  from  its  written  expression, 
and  therefore  puts  an  extra  burden  on  the  reader.  The  French 
facilitates  the  rendering  of  shadings  through  the  written 
form,  and  thus  possesses  a  stylistic  resource  lacking  in  the 
written  English.  Literary  French,  in  the  search  for  stylistic 
effect,  tends  to  strengthen  the  use  of  epithets,  and  French 
grammarians,  in  helping  to  associate  certain  meanings  with 
fore-position,  have  aided  this  tendency.  English,  in  which 
the  difference  between  epithet  and  distinguishing  adjective 
can  not  be  indicated  in  the  written  form  and  has  remained 
beyond  the  touch  or  ken  of  grammarians,  shows  a  much  rarer 
use  of  the  epithet.  Spoken  French  will  naturally  be  found 
in  this  respect  in  closer  accord  with  English  than  is  written 
French. 

As  a  specimen  of  the  system  used  in  comparing  adjectives  in  the 
two  languages,  I  append  about  one  half  of  the  passage  from  Anatole 
France  for  which  statistics  have  been  given  in  this  chapter,  joining 
to  it  Hearn's  translation.  I  omit  a  number  of  clauses  and  sentences 
containing  no  attributive  adjectives  preserved  as  such  in  the  transla- 
tion. As  already  said,  the  English  stress  as  here  noted  represents 
simply  the  present  author's  interpretation  of  his  own  pronunciation. 
Others  would  certainly  in  some  cases  read  the  words  with  a  different 
stress.  The  symbols  inserted  in  brackets  after  the  adjectives  of 
the  French  text  are  to  be  interpreted  as  follows: 

[1]:  the  French  adjective  is  in  post- position ;  the  English  shows 
accord  by  employing  a  normal-stressed  or  heavy-stressed  adjective. 

[lx]:  The  French  adjective  is  in  post-position;  the  English,  on 
the  contrary,  employs  a  light-stressed  adjective. 


17]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  267 

[2]:  the  French  adjective  is  in  fore-position;  the  English  shows 
accord  by  employing  a  light-stressed  adjective. 

[2x] :  the  French  adjective  is  in  fore-position;  the  English,  on 
the  contrary,  employs  a  normal-stressed  or  heavy-stressed  adjective. 

[3] :  the  French  adjective  is  in  fore-position,  but  is  one  of  the 
adjectives  which  precede  whether  used  as  epithets  or  not;  the  English 
employs  a  light-stressed  adjective. 

[3x] :  the  French  adjective  is  in  fore-position,  but  is  one  of  the 
adjectives  which  precede  whether  used  as  epithets  or  not;  the 
English   employs   a  normal-stressed  or  heavy-stressed  adjective. 


Un  souffle  egal  [1]  soulevait  sa  fourrure  epaisse  [1]  et  legere  [1]. 

His  thick  fine  fur  rose  and  fell  with  his  regular  breathing. 
A  mon  approche,  il  coula  doucement  ses  prunelles  d'agate  entre  ses 
At  my  coming,  he  slowly  slipped  a  glance  of  his  agate  eyes  at  me  from 
paupieres  mi-closes  [1]  qu'il  referma  presque  aussitSt.  .  .  . 
between  his  half-opened  lids,  which  he  closed  again  almost  at  once.  .  . . 
Hamilcar,  prince  somnolent  [1]  de  la  cite'  des  livres,  gardien 
Hamilcar,  somnolent  Prince  of  the  City  of  Books — thou  guardian 
nocturne!  tu  defends  contre  de  vils  [2]  rongeurs  les  manuscrits 
nocturnal!  Thou  dost  defend  from  vile  nibblers  those  books 
et  les  imprimis  que  le  vieux  [3]  savant  acquit  au  prix  d'un  modique 
which  the  old  savant  acquired  at  the  cost  of  his  slender  savings 
[2x]  pecule  et  d'un  zele  infatigable  [1].  Dans  cette  bibliotheque 
and  indefatigable  zeal.  Sleep,    Hamilcar,    softly 

silencieuse,  que  protegent  tes  vertus  militaires  [1],  Hamilcar,  dors 
as  a  sultana,  in  this  library  that  shelters  thy  military  virtues; 
avec  la  mollesse  d'une  sultane!  Car  tu  r6unis  en  ta  personne 
for  verily  in  thy  person  are  united  the  formidable  aspect  of  a 
l'aspect  formidable  [1]  d'un  guerrier  tartare  [1]  a  la  grace  appe- 
Tartar  warrior  and  the  slumbrous  grace  of  a  woman  of  the  Orient, 
santie   [1]   d'une  femme  d'Orient.     H6roique   [2]   et  voluptueux   [2] 

Sleep,  thou  heroic  and  voluptuous 
Hamilcar,  dors  en  attendant  l'heure  oil  les  souris  danseront,  au 
Hamilcar,  while  awaiting  that  moonlight  hour  in  which  the  mice 
clair  de  la  lune,  devant  les  Acta  Sanctorum  des  doctes  [2] 
will  come  forth  to  danse  before  the  Acta  Sanctorum  of  the  learned 
Bollandistes.  .  .  .  Hamilcar  m'avertit  en  abaissant  les  oreilles  et 
Bollandists.  .  .  .       Hamilcar  notified  me  by  lowering  his  ears  and 


268  ARMSTRONG  [18 

en  plissant  la  peau  zgbree  [1]  de  son  front,  qu'il  6tait  malseant  de 
by  wrinkling  the  striped  skin  of  his  brow  that  it  was  bad  taste  on 
d^clamer   ainsi.  .  .  .  C'6tait    un    petit     [3x]     homme,    un 

my  part  so  to  declaim.  .  .  .  He  was  a  little  man — a  poor  little 
pauvre  [3]  petit  [3]  homme  de  mine  chgtive  [1],  v§tu  d'une  mince 
man  of  puny  appearance,  wearing  a  thin  jacket. 

[2x]    jaquette.     II    s'avanga   vers    moi    en    faisant   une   quantity   de 
He  approached  me  with  a  number  of  little  bows  and 
petits  [3]  saluts  et  de  petits  sourires.  ...     Je  songeai,  en  le  voyant, 
smiles.  ...  I   thought,   as    I   looked 

a  un  ecureuil  blesse"   [1].  II  portait  sous  son  bras  une  toilette 

at  him,  of  a  wounded  squirrel.  He  carried  under  his  arm  a  green 
verte  [1]  qu'il  posa  sur  une  chaise;  puis,  defaisant  les  quatre  [3] 
toilette,  which  he  put  upon  a  chair ;  then  unfastening  the  four  corners 
oreilles  de  la  toilette,  il  decouvrit  un  tas  de  petits  [3]  livres 
of  the  toilette,  he  uncovered  a  heap  of  little  yellow  books.  .  .  . 
jaunes  [1].  .  .  .  Je  fais  la  place  pour  les  principales  [2x]  maisons 
I  represent  the  leading  houses  of  the  capital,  and 
de  la  capitale,  et,  dans  l'espoir  que  vous  voudrez  bien  m'honorer 
in  the  hope  that  you  will  kindly  honor  me  with  your  confidence, 
de  votre  confiance,  je  prends  la  liberty  de  vous  offrir  quelques  [3] 
I  take  the  liberty  to  offer  you  a  few  novelties, 
nouveautes.  Dieux  bons!  [1]  dieux  justes!  [1]  quelles  nouveautes 
Kind  gods !  just  gods !  such  novelties  as  the  homunculus 
m'offrit  l'homonculus  Coccoz!  Le  premier  [3x]  volume  qu'il  me 
Coceoz  showed  me!  The    first    volume    that    he    put    in 

mit  dans  la  main  fut  PHistoire  de  la  Tour  de  Nesle.  .  .  .  C'est  un 
my  hand  was  PHistoire  de  la  Tour  de  Nesle.  ...  It  is  a 

livre  historique  [1],  me  dit-il  en  souriant,  un  livre  d'histoire 
historical  book,  he  said  to  me,  with  a  smile — a  book  of  real 
veritable  [1].  .  .  .  Vous  risqueriez  de  la  garder  toute  [3]  votre 
history.  .  .  .  You  would  run  the  risk  of  keeping  it  all  your 

vie    dans    votre    serge    verte.  .  .  .  Certainement,    monsieur,    me 

life  in  that  green-baize  of  yours.  .  .  .  Certainly,  Monsieur,  the  little 
rgpondit  le  petit  [3]  homme,  par  pure  [2]  complaisance.  .  .  Si  vous 
man  answered,  out  of  pure  good-nature.  ...  If     you 

voulez  me  rappeler  les  regies  du  bgsigue,  rendez-moi  mon  vieil  [3] 
want  to  make  me  remember  the  rules  of  besigue,  give  me  back  my 
ami  Bignan,  avec  qui  je  jouais  aux  cartes,  chaque  [3]  soir,  avant  que 
old  friend  Bignan,  with  whom  I  used  to  play  cards  every  evening 


19]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  269 

les  cinq  [3]  academies  l'eussent  conduit  solennement  au  cimetiere, 
before  the  Five  Academies  solemnly  escorted  him  to  the  cemetery; 
ou  bien  encore  abaissez  a  la  frivolity  des  jeux  humaines  [1]  la 
or  else  bring  down  to  the  frivolous  level  of  human  amusements  the 
grave  [2]  intelligence  d'Hamilcar  que  vous  voyez  dormant  sur  ce 
grave  intelligence  of  Hamilcar,  whom  you  see  on  that  cushion,  for  he 
coussin,  car  il  est  aujourd'hui  le  seul  [3x]  compagnon  de  mes  soirees, 
is  the  sole  companion  of  my  evenings. 

Le  sourire  du  petit  [3]  homme  devint  vague  et  effare\  Voici,  me 
The  little  man's  smile  became  vague  and  uneasy.  Here,    he 

dit-il,  un  recueil  nouveau  [1]  de  divertissements  de  soci6t6,  fac^ties  et 
said,  is  a  new  collection  of  society  amusements — jokes  and  puns — 
calembours,  avec  les  moyens  de  changer  une  rose  rouge  [1]  en  rose 
with  a  recipe  for  changing  a  red  rose  to  a  white  rose.  .  .  . 
blanche  [1].  .  .  .  Quant  aux  fac6ties,  il  me  suffisait  de  eelles  que 
As  to  jokes  I  was  satisfied  with  those  which  I 
je  me  permettais,  sans  le  savoir,  dans  le  cours  de  mes  travaux 
unconsciously  permitted  myself  to  make  in  the  course  of  my  scientific 
scientifiques  [1].  L'homonculus  m'offrit  son  dernier  [3x]  livre  avec 
labors.  The  homunculus  offered  me  his  last  book,  with 

son  dernier  [3x]  sourire.  .  .  .  J'avais  saisi  les  pincettes,  et  c'est 
his  last  smile.  ...  I  had  taken  hold  of  the  tongs,  and, 

en  les  agitant  avec  vivacity  que  je  r^pondis  a  mon  visiteur  com- 
brandishing  them  energetically,  I  replied  to  my  commercial  visi- 
mercial  [1].  .  .  .  Votre  petit  [3]  livre  jaune  [lx]  me  donnera-t-il 
tor.  ...  Is  your  little  yellow  book  able  to  give  me  the 

la  clef  de  celui-la?.  ...  Le  livre  est  complet  et  pas  cher:  un  [3x] 
key  to  that?.  .  .  .  The   book   is   complete,   and  not   dear — one 

franc  vingt-cinq  [3x]  centimes,  monsieur.  ...  Je  puis  dire  chaque 
franc  twenty-five  centimes,  Monsieur.  ...  I    am    able    to    say 

[3]  soir:  Seigneur.  .  .  .  Ayant  ainsi  parl6,  ma  gouvernante  aida 
every  night:  Lord.  .  .  .  And  with  these  words  my  housekeeper 
le  petit  [3]  homme  a  renfermer  sa  pacotille  dans  la  toilette 
helped  the  little  man  to  fasten  up  his  stock  again  within  the  green 
verte    [1].     L'homonculus   Coccoz    ne   souriait   plus.  Ses 

toilette.  The    homunculus    Coccoz    had    ceased    to    smile.     His 

traits  d6tendus  [1]  prirent  une  telle  expression  de  souffrance  que 
relaxed  features  took  such  an  expression  of  suffering  that  I  felt 
je  fus  aux  regrets  d'avoir  raille'  un  homme  aussi  malheureux  [1]. 
sorry   to  have   made   fun   of  so  unhappy   a  man. 


270  ARMSTRONG  [20 

Je  le  rappelai  et  lui  dis  que  j'avais  lorgne"  du  coin  de  l'oeil  l'Histoire 
I  called  him  back,  and  told  him  that  I  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  copy 
d'Estelle  et  de  Nemorin,  .  .  .  et  que  j'acheterais  volontiers,  a  un 
of  the  Histoire  d'Estelle  et  de  Nemorin,  .  .  .  and  that  I  would  be 
prix  raisonable  [1],  1'histoire  de  ces  deux  [3]  parfaits  [2x]  amants. 
quite  willing  to  purchase,  at  a  reasonable  price,  the  story  of  those 
Je  vous  vendrai  ce  livre  un  [3x]  franc  vingt- 
two  perfect  lovers.  I  will  sell  you  that  book  for  one  franc  twenty- 
cinq,  monsieur,  me  repondit  Coccoz.  ...  Je  vous  apporterai  de- 
five  centimes,  Monsieur,  replied  Coccoz.  .  .  .  Tomorrow  I  will  bring 
main  les  Crimes  des  papes.  C'est  un  bon  [3]  ouvrage.  Je  vous 
you  the  Crimes  des  Papes.  It  is  a  good  book.  I  will 
apporterai  l'edition  d'amateur,  avec  les  figures  coloriees  [1].  .  .  . 
bring  you  the  edition  d'amateur,  with  colored  plates.  .  .  . 
Quand  la  toilette  verte  [1]  se  fut  evanouie  avec  le  colporteur  dans 
When  the  green  toilette  and  the  agent  had  disappeared  in  the  shadow 
l'ombre  du  corridor,  je  demandai  a  ma  gouvernante  d'ou  nous  etait 
of  the  corridor  I  asked  my  housekeeper  whence  this  little  man  had 
tombe  ce  pauvre  petit  [3]  homme.  ...  II  a  une  femme,  ditesvous, 
dropped  upon  us.  .  .  .  You  say  he  has  a  wife, 
Therese?  Cela  est  merveilleux!  Les  femmes  sont  de  bien  etranges 
Therese  ?  That  is  marvelous !  Women  are  very  strange  creatures ! 
[2x]  creatures.  Celle-ci  doit  6tre  une  pauvre  [2]  petite  [3]  femme. 
This  one  must  be  a  very  unfortunate  little  woman. 
Je  ne  sais  trop  ce  qu'elle  est,  me  rgpondit  Therese.  .  .  .  Elle  coule 
I  don't  really  know  what  she  is,  answered  Therese.  .  .  .  She  makes 
des  yeux  Juisants  [1],  .  .  .  On  les  a  pris  dans  le  grenier.  ...  en 
soft  eyes  at  people.  .  .  .  They  allowed  the  couple  to  occupy  the 
consideration  de  ce  que  le  mari  est  malade  et  la  femme  dans  un  etat 
attic  in  consideration  of  the  fact  that  the  husband  is  sick  and  the 
interessant  [1].  .  .  .  lis  avaient  bien  besoin 
wife  in  an  interesting  condition.  .  .  .  They  must  have  been  very 
d'avoir  un  enfant!  Therese,  repondis-je,  ils  n'en  avaient  sans 
badly  off  for  a  child!  Therese,  I  replied,  they  had  no  need  of  a 
doute  nul  [3x]  besoin.  ...  II  faut  une  prudence  exemplaire  [1] 
child,  doubtless.  .  .  .  One  must  have  exceptional  prudence  to 
pour  dejouer  les  ruses  de  la  nature.  .  .  .  Quant  aux  robes  de  soie, 
defeat  Nature's  schemes.  ...  As  for  silk  dresses,  there 
il  n'est  pas  de  jeune  [3]  femme  qui  ne  les  aime.  .  .  .  Vous-meme, 
is  no  young  woman  who  does  not  like  them.  .  .                You    your- 


21]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  271 

Therese,   qui   6tes   grave   et   sage,   quels   cris   vous   poussez   quand  il 
self,   Th6rese — who  are  so   serious  and  sensible — What  a  fuss  you 
vous  manque  un  tablier  blanc   [lx]   pour  servir  a  table!   .  .  . 
make  when  you  have  no  white  apron  to  wait  at  table  in!   ... 


III. 


Having  finished  this  somewhat  detailed  comparison  of  the 
French  and  the  English  adjectives,  we  are  perhaps  prepared 
to  attempt  an  answer  to  the  questions  raised  at  the  beginning. 
It  is  manifest,  in  the  first  place,  that  position  plays  no  part, 
for  contemporary  English,  in  determining  the  character  of 
attributive  adjectives.  We  have  seen,  however,  that  there 
exists  a  method  of  indicating  in  English  the  distinctions 
which  are  made  in  French.  The  distinguishing  adjective  is 
accented,  this  accent  varying  from  a  somewhat  light  stress  to 
a  stress  so  pronounced  that,  in  the  case  of  emphatic  or  con- 
trasted adjectives,  it  is  the  main  stress  in  the  combination 
formed  by  adjective  and  noun ;  the  epithet,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  so  lightly  stressed  that  it  may  be  accounted  proclitic. 
Such  a  difference  is  natural,  for  the  proclitic  adjective  pushes 
the  attention  on  to  an  accent-bearing  noun  which  it  serves 
to  augment  or  diminish;  while  the  full-stressed  adjective 
holds  the  thought  to  the  quality  which  delimits  the  sub-class 
to  be  distinguished. 

This  situation  in  English  causes  us  to  turn  our  thought 
anew  to  the  French.  Can  the  accent,  the  all-important 
feature  in  English,  play  a  part  also  in  the  French?  There 
the  augmenting  adjective  always  precedes  the  noun,  and, 
as  is  shown  by  its  inviolable  liaison,  is  intimately  joined 
to  it.  The  distinguishing  adjective,  except  in  certain  speci- 
fic cases  which  are  probably  fossils,  follows  the  noun,  and  the 
tendency  to  omit  liaison  is  strong  evidence  of  a  pause  between 
noun  and  adjective.  Now  in  French  the  main  stress-accent 
tends  to  fall  uniformly  upon  the  end  of  the  word  group. 
If  the  union  of  the  elements  of  the  group  is  so  intimate  that 


272  ARMSTRONG  [22 

they  constitute  practically  a  unit,  the  parts  preceding  this 
end-accent  tend  to  be  proclitic;  if  the  group  is  more  loosely 
connected,  a  stress  will  occur  in  each  part,  but  the  main 
stress  still  remains  at  the  end  of  the  whole.  In  other  words, 
the  French  situation  is  similar  to  the  English:  in  a  combi- 
nation of  epithet  and  noun,  the  noun  alone  is  accented ;  while 
in  a  combination  of  distinguishing  adjective  and  noun,  adjec- 
tive as  well  as  noun  receives  an  accent.  C'est  un  parfait  en- 
fant' and  c'est  un  enfant'  |  parfait'  do  not  differ  from 
he  is  a  perfect  child'  and  he  is  a  per1  feet  \  child'.  This  being 
the  case,  the  shifts  in  French  adjective  position  are  presumably 
not  due  to  any  basal  connection  between  post-position  and 
the  making  of  a  logical  distinction,  but  arise  from  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  French  accent,  which  can  not,  as  in  English, 
be  shifted  at  will  to  any  element  in  the  phrase,  regardless 
of  its  location.  The  shift  in  position  is  then  due  to  the 
same  cause  which  has  developed  in  French  the  types:  c'est 
lui'  qui  l'a  fait  and  il  l'a  fait,  lui'  as  the  equivalents  of 
the  English  he'  did  it.  If  this  be  true,  it  is  evident  that 
the  position  of  the  French  attributive  adjective  has,  in  the 
question  of  the  theoretically  proper  place  for  the  adjective,  no 
such  import  as  the  shifts  in  that  position  have  often  been 
assumed  to  indicate. 

One  more  point  in  the  French  requires  attention.  In  the 
case  of  the  small  group  of  adjectives  which  uniformly  precede 
the  noun  (bon,  mauvais,  grand,  petit,  vieux,  jeune,  etc.), 
does  the  French,  when  such  adjectives  serve  to  make  a  logical 
distinction,  have  any  way  of  indicating  this  to  the  ear? 
The  logical  stress  would  here  tend  to  fall  on  the  adjective, 
but  this  is  opposed  by  the  tendency  of  the  phrase  stress  to 
fall  on  the  end  word.  My  observation  leads  me  to  think 
that  from  these  opposing  tendencies  there  results  a  compromise 
by  which  the  main  stress  remains  on  the  noun,  but  a  light 
stress  falls  also  on  the  adjective  ;  so  that,  in  :  si  le  canif 
n'est  pas  dans  le  petit  tiroir,  vous  le  trouverez  sans 
doute  dans   l'autre,    there  is  a  stress  on  the  adjective  suffi- 


23]  FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    ADJECTIVES  273 

cient  to  distinguish  it  from  petit  in  :  mais  regardez  done  le 
petit  garcon.  This  is  however,  a  matter  that  could  be 
definitely  determined  only  by  the  apparatus  of  the  experi- 
mental phoneticians. 

Cledat ai  has  called  attention  to  the  close  similarity  in  value 
between  decorative  epithets  and  augmentative  and  detractive 
suffixes.  Notice  the  kindred  meanings  of  gouttelette  and 
petite  goutte,  poulette  and  jeune  poule,  ballon  and 
grande  balle,  salon  and  grande  salle,  paperasses  and 
mauvais  papiers.  Epithets  and  suffixes  of  the  kind  will 
alike  attach  themselves  with  especial  readiness  to  objects 
with  which,  in  our  daily  life,  we  come  in  frequent  contact, 
and  of  which  many  play  a  part  in  contributing  to  or  dimin- 
ishing our  physical  or  spiritual  well-being.  We  know  what 
a  great  extension  of  emotional  suffixes  there  was  in  Folk 
Latin;  the  generalization  of  fore-position  for  the  commoner 
adjectives  of  size  and  age  and  quality  bears  witness  to  a 
similarly  strong  tendency  in  the  Folk  Latin  to  employ  ad- 
jectives for  purposes  of  emotional  attribution.  The  two  pro- 
cesses are  alike  forms  of  word  composition;  for,  just  as 
the  one  is  accomplished  by  the  addition  of  a  suffix,  so  the 
other  constitutes  the  joining  on  of  a  prefix,  the  proclitic 
adjective  being  in  reality  little  else  than  this. 

The  question  of  the  position  of  the  adjective  in  French 
is  so  closely  related  to  the  same  question  for  the  other  Romance 
languages  that  it  can  not  receive  definitive  treatment  in  studies 
restricted  to  the  one  speech;  but  much  less  has  been  done 
in  detailed  study  of  the  position  of  the  adjective  in  these 
other  languages,  and  in  the  investigation  of  their  phrase 
accent,  so  that  extensive  preliminary  analysis  would  be 
necessary  before  a  synthetic  treatment  could  be  undertaken. 
This  much,  however,  is  already  manifest:  the  rules  which 
apply  to  the  placing  of  adjectives  in  the  remaining  Romance 
tongues  are  so  similar  to  those  prevailing  in  French  that, 

"  RPhF.,  Vol.  xv,  pp.  243-244. 
17 


274  ARMSTRONG  [24 

if,  as  here  claimed,  it  is  the  rising  phrase  accent  which 
determined  the  character  of  the  French  adjective  shifts,  we 
should  definitely  expect  the  Eomance  phrase  accent  in  general 
to  be  likewise  a  crescendo.  It  is  not  essential  to  the  correct- 
ness of  the  theory  as  applied  to  French  that  all  its  details 
should  be  applicable  to  the  rest  of  the  territory;  it  is  essential 
that  the  whole  group  of  kindred  speeches  possess,  or  at  an 
earlier  period  possessed,  a  rising  phrase  stress.  That  such  is 
the  general  stress  is  borne  out,  for  the  Spanish  at  least,  by 
an  examination  of  the  phonetic  transcription  of  Spanish  texts 
given  by  Araujo  in  the  Phonetische  Studien.12  Two  grades 
of  accent  are  indicated  in  this  transcription,  and,  no  matter 
where  else  a  stress  falls,  there  is  almost  invariably  a  heavy 
stress  noted  for  the  last  accented  syllable  of  the  breath  groups 
or  sense  groups.  For  the  Italian  I  have  found  no  treatment 
of  this  subject,  but  my  own  impression,  which  coincides  with 
the  opinion  of  others  I  have  consulted,  is  that  the  same 
status  exists  also  in  that  language. 

Thus  the  conclusions  at  which  I  have  arrived  in  the  course 
of  my  study  are  that  the  English  has  a  parallel  for  the  French 
adjective  shift;  that  this  English  parallel  throws  light  on 
the  true  meaning  of  the  French  varying  position;  and  that 
this  interpretation  of  the  French  status  in  the  light  of  the 
English  finds  confirmation  in  a  least  one  other  Romance 
language. 

"Vol.  vi,  pp.  44-62;  134-150;  257-273.  Compare  also  the  following 
statements  of  Araujo  (ibid.,  vol.  v,  p.  159;  repeated  in  his  Estudios 
de  fonetika  castellana,  Paris,  1894,  p.  118)  :  "La  formation  des 
groupes  d'accentuation  est  tres  ind€terminee,  et  il  est  tres  difficile  de 
saisir  les  regies  auxquelles  elle  est  soumise.  .  .  .  Par-dessus  toutes 
ces  variations,  on  peut  reconnaitre  toutefois  que  dans  les  mots  qui 
finissent  les  vers  ou  les  phrases,  l'accent  du  groupe  est  celui  qui 
correspond  au  mot  final."  Araujo  further  says  (PS.,  vol.  v,  pp. 
143-144,  and  Estudios,  p.  97)  that  monosyllabic  adjectives,  when 
they  precede,  are  weak,  and,  when  they  follow,  become  strong; 
giving  as  examples  vil  enemigo,  enemigo  vil ;  f iel  amante,  amante  fiel. 


LE  PLURIEL  DU  DfiMONSTRATIF   DANS   LES 

PARLERS  POPULA1RES  DE  L'ANGOUMOIS 

(AVEC  CARTE)1 

PAR 

A.  Terracher 


En  Angoumois  (et  en  Saintonge),*  le  demonstratif  eccu-ille 
presente  les  formes  regionales3  que  voici  : 

1  a)  Pour  l'^poque  ancienne,  v.  E.  Gorlich,  die  siidwestlichen  Dialerte  der 
langut  <T  oil.  Poitou,  Aunis,  Saintonge  und  Angoumois.  Heilbronn,  1882 
(Franzosische  Studien,  in,  2),  p.  110-111  (cf.,  en  outre,  p.  28-30  ;  72  ;  108- 
109);  W.  Cloetta,  Le  mysttre  de  I'epoux  (Romania,  xxn  (1893),  p.  177- 
229,  specialement  p.  181,  185,  189,  192-193  et  note). 

6)  Pour  l'dpoque  raoderne,  v.  Atlas  linguistiquc  de  la  France,  carte  209 
(.  .  .  ceux  qui  .  .  .);  E.  Herzog,  Neufranzosische  Dialekttexte  (Sammlung 
romanischer  Lesebiicher,  t.  i),  Leipzig,  1906,  p.  49-56  (Poitevinisch,  nos. 
25  a  29)  et  Einleitung,  p.  62-64. 

c)  La  carte  qui  accompague  cette  £tude  a  ete  dressee  a  l'aide  des  niat£- 
riaux  que  j'ai  moi-in£me  recueillis  sur  place. — Comrne  il  m'est  impossible 
d' user  tou jours  dans  le  texte  de  la  notation  phone*tique  employee  pour  la 
carte,  je  me  servirai  des  signes  que  voici :  '  marque  I'accent  tonique  ;  . 
indique  une  voyelle  ferm^e,  t  une  voyelle  ouverte  ;  oz  =  e  muet. 

3  Le  Poitou — au  moins  le  Poitou  du  nord — ne  presente  pas,  semble-t-il, 
le  meme  phe"nomene.  La  carte  209  de  Y  Atlas  linguistique  ne  permet  pas  de 
se  prononcer  :  dansl'ouest  de  la  Vendee,  dans  les  Deux-Sevres  et  dans  la 
Vienne,  kela  ki(=ceux  qui;  cf.  kele  :  479,  ile  d'Yeu)  est  sans  doute  la 
traduction  de  "ceux-Zd  qui  "  (on  a,  pour  le  pronom,  kle  la  ki  en  Saintonge 
et  en  Angoumois)  :  une  carte  de  ces  (garcons,  filles )  serait  n^cessaire.  Dans 
Herzog,  je  ne  rencontre  d'exemples  que  pour  la  Charente  (no.  25,  1.  11  et 
13)  et  la  Charente-Infe'rieure  (no.  26,  1.  40  ;  no.  27, 1.  36);  pour  les  Deux- 
S&vres,  on  ne  trouve  que  tye  masc.  et  fem.  (no.  28,  1.  9,  13,  17,  54  ;  no.  29, 
1.  36),  v.  encore  Revue  des  patois  gallo-romans,  i,  130  (Mazieres:  kye  sb}t 
"ces  sept,"  f£m. ).  A  supposer  que  kye,  tye  des  Deux-Sevres  repr^sente 
bien  kele  (  -^  kle  ->  kl'e,  -&■  kye,  lye)  (v.  L.  Favre,  Parabole  de  I' enfant 
prodigue  en  divers  dialectes,  patois  de  la  France,  p.  144  :  thiellaie  masc.  dans 
les  Deux-Sevres)  et  non  pas  seulement  une  forme  palatalise"e  de  ke  (eccu- 
illos),  le  pluriel  allonge-  n'existerait  en  tout  cas  que  dans  la  partie  nie'ri- 
dionale  du  d£partement. 

sJe  neglige  les  phe'nomenes  secondaires  de  palatalisation  et — pour  1' in- 
stant— le  fe*m.  plur.  kela  dans  l'est  de  1' Angoumois. 

1]  275 


276 


TERRACHER 


[2 


masculin 


Singulier 

!ka  devant  consonne 
kel        "      voyelle 


masc.  J 
et  fem.  j 


Plwiel 

k(e)le    devant  consonne 
k(e)l#z       "      voyelle. 


teminin        kel 

Parallelement,  on  a  pour  eccu-iste  *  :  au  singulier  ke  (ou  ket) 
pour  le  masculin,  ket  pour  le  feminin  ;  au  pluriel  k(e)te(z) 
pour  les  deux  genres. 

Les  formes  du  singulier  s'expliquent  d'elles-memes  ;  l'origine 
du  pluriel  allonge  (kele  et  kete)  est  moins  claire. 

A  ma  connaissance,  on  a  propose  jusqu'ici  deux  explications 
de  ce  pluriel,  l'une  phonetique,  1' autre  analogique.  La  premiere 
en  date  (explication  phonetique),  due  a  M.  Rousselot,5  peut  se 
resumer  ainsi :  a  Cellefrouin,  -as  atone  est  represents  par  -e  (p. 
ex.,  au  pluriel  des  substantifs  et  adjectifs  feminins  :  vdccas  -*■ 
v&chg,  bonas  -+  boune  ;  dans  les  desinences  verbales  :  cdntas  -> 
chate  ;  etc. ) :  on  y  a  done  eccu-illas  -*  kele,  nostras  -»  notri, 
*vostras  -»  votrt,.  Cet  ^,  caracteristique  du  feminin  pluriel,  s'est 
£tendu  au  masculin  aussi  bien  dans  les  mots  anciens  (6ft  bovem, 
plur.  6ite)  que  dans  les  termes  empruntes  recemment  au  francais 
(jadtirm  •<  gendarme  >,  plur.  jadarme) ;  de  la  eccu-illos  -> 
kele,  comme — etd'apres — eccu-illas,  nostros  —  notre,  etc.  Mais, 
tandis  que  VI  de  flexion  nominale  et  verbale  tend  a  dispa- 
raitre,  l'emploi  proclitique  de  kett,  notre,  etc.,  a  maintenu  cet 
2  qui  s'est  allonge,  d'ou  k(e)le,  notre,  etc. 

La  seconde  explication,  toute  recente,  emane  de  M.  Bourciez 8 : 
dans  la  naissance  de  la  forme  kele,  "  il  ne  saurait  6tre  question 
d'un  developpement  phonetique  proprement  dit "  et  il  faut 
songer  a  une  influence  analogique.     L' article  defini  a  du  servir 

*  eccu-iste,  d^monstratif  de  proximity,  n'existe— du  moins  en  Angoumois 
— que  dans  des  expressions  fige"e8  :  d  ke  ta  "  de  ce  temps,"  ket  ane  "cette 
ann^e,"  da  ktejur  "dans  ces  jours"  (pluriel  tres  rare). 

bDevocabulorum  congruentia  in  rustico  Cellae-Fruini  sermone,  Parisiis,  1892, 
p.  14,  n.  1  et  p.  22  ;  comparer  Les  modifications  phonetiques  du  langage 
etudiees  dans  le  patois  d' une  familie  de  Cellefrouin  (Charente),  Paris,  1892, 
p.  283. 

8  Le  Demonstratif  dans  la  Petite  Oavacherk  (Melanges  Wilmotte,  Paris, 
1910,  p.  67-67). 


3]  PLURIEL   DU    DEMONSTRATE   EN   ANGOUMOIS  277 

de  point  de  depart  :  ou  bien  "le  feminin  pluriel  ikelce(s)  a  eu 
sa  finale  purement  et  simplement  influencee  par  Particle  le(s)  " 
et  "  s'est  ensuite  transmis  au  masculin  "  ;  ou  bien  (et  M.  Bour- 
ciez  penche  pour  cette  seconde  hypothese)  il  s'est  etabli  une  sorte 
de  proportionality,  d'abord  devant  les  noras  commencant  par 
une  voyelle  :  on  disait  I  om,  lez  om,  un  singulier  kel  om  aura 
appel£  un  pluriel  kelez  om. 

*** 

L' explication  de  M.  Bourciez  a  le  defaut  de  negliger  les 
pluriels  allonges  des  possessifs  "nos"  (noire),  "vos"  (yotre), 
etc.     Or,  si  l'on  peut  a  la  rigueur  admettre   une   proportion- 

nalite 7 

I  om  :       fez  om, 
kel    "   :      kefez  om, 

il  est  plus  difficile  d'expliquer  par  le  m£me  procede  la  formation 
de  kete,  notre,  yotre,  etc.,  a  moins  de  supposer  qu'ils  ont  ete 
refaits  d'apres  kele  qui  avait  50  chances  pour  100  de  ne  pas 
naitre.  De  plus,  kele,  notre,  etc.,  se  rencontrent  en  Angoumois 
non-seulement  dans  la  region  ou  le  pluriel  de  1' article  defini  est 
le  pour  les  deux  genres,  mais  aussi  ou  Ton  a  lou  pour  le  mas- 
culin et  la  pour  le  feminin — ce  qui  ecarte,  a  mon  sens,  toute 
explication  par  une  influence  analogique.8 

Je  crois  qu'il  faut  accepter  1' explication  phonStique  de  M. 
Rousselot,  mais  en  la  precisant  et  la  completant. — Remarquons, 
d'abord,  que  eccu-illl,  eccu-illos  ont  du  etre  employes  comme 
proclitiques  des  Vorigine:  on  attend,  des  lors,  *Ml,  *kels 
(formes  du  francais  et  du  provencal  litt^raires)  et  non  kele. — 
L' etude  d'une  partie  de  1' Angoumois  ou  l'on  distingue  entre  le 
masculin  kV  et  le  feminin  kele  m'amene  a  proposer  une  expli- 
cation un  peu  differente  de  celle  de  M.  Rousselot. 

70u,  plus  exacteraent,  une  demi-proportionnalite",  puisque  le  paralle'- 
lisme  n'existepas  devant  les  mots  commenyant  par  une  consonne. 

8  La  premiere  hypothese  de  M.  Bourciez  (le  fe'minin  ikelce(s)  ->  ikele(s) 
(sous  l'influence  de  le(»)  article)  ^tendu  au  masculin)  admet  en  outre  que 
les  formes  du  fe'minin  puissent  gagner  le  masculin,  alors  que — pour  le 
pluriel  du  de'monstratif — c'est  l'inverse  qui  s'est  produit  en  francais. 

9  M.  Rousselot  (Modi/,  phonet.,  p.  231)  signale  kl  a  Saint-Claud,  pn?s  de 


278 


TEERACHER 


[4 


La  carte  ci-jointe  est  celle  d'une  region  de  l'Angoumois  tra- 
versed par  la  "limite  du  francais  et  du  provencal"( — •  — 
—  •  — ).10  A  Test  de  cette  limite,  on  distingue,  au  pluriel  de 
l'article  defini,  le  masculin  lou  du  feminin  la  (proven9al);  a 
l'ouest,  on  a  pour  les  deux  genres  une  forme  unique  le  (fran- 
cais). Le  domaine  provencal  de  cette  region  n'est  pas  homo- 
gene  :  a  Test  de  la  ligne  formee  par  les  trois  limites , 

—  —  et  ,  — as  atone   des  substantifs  et  adjectifs 

feminins  pluriels  (et  des  desinences  verbales)  existe  encore 
(plus  ou  moins  menace)  ;  a  l'ouest,  au  contraire,  on  n'en  trouve 
aucune  trace  ni  aucun  souvenir. — Or,  partout  ou  — as  atone  est 
conserve^  on  distingue,  au  pluriel  du  demonstratif,  entre  le 
masculin  Id  et  le  feminin  hell  (kela);11  partout  ou — as  atone 
a  disparu,  on  trouve  une  forme  unique  hell  pour  les  deux 
genres. — L'on  a  ainsi,  en  allant  de  l'ouest  a  Test,  trois  zones  : 


f     I),  article  defini 
demonstratif 


le  masc.  et  fern. 


— as  atone 
disparu. 


et  possessifs   :  kele,  notre,  etc.,  masc.  et  fern. 

II).  article  defini:  masc.  lou,  fem.  la, 
demonstratif 

et  possessifs    :  kele,  notre,  etc.,  pour  les  deux 
genres. 

fill),  article  defini :  masc.  lou,  fem.  la. 
— as  atone  J            demonstratif 

conserve.  et  possessifs  :  masc.  ki,  notre;  fem.  kele  (d), 

[  ?wtre  ( — a) ;  etc. 

Cellefrouin,  et  le  rattache  a  eccu-isti. — II  me  semble  plus  naturel — au 
moins  pour  la  region  que  j'ai  exploree — de  consideVer  kl  (klz  devant 
voyelle)  comme  repr&entant  eccu-Ulos  ->  *kels  ->  kl  (d'apres  eccu-illi);  cf. 
Appel,  Provenzalische  Chrestomathie,*  p.  xvi,  c. 

10  Cette  limite  est  simplement  celle  de  la  distinction  des  genres  au  pluriel 
de  l'article  defini;  je  n'use  de  "francais"  et  de  "provencal"  que  pour 
des  raisons  de  commodity. 

"Dans  la  region  occupde  par  les  hachures  en  rouge,  kelh  est  en  train  de 
supplanter  un  masculin  kl  plus  ancien  ;  il  n'y  a  pas  la  extension  du 
feminin  (kele)  au  masculin,  mais  penetration  du  type  uniformise"  de  l'ouest 
et  du  nord-ouest. 


5]  PLURIEL   DU    DEMONSTRATE   EN   ANGOUMOI8  279 

*Kelou(z),  *kelq(z)  n'existant  pas  dans  les  zones  II  et  III,12 
1' explication  de  M.  Bourciez  ne  vaut  pas  pour  ces  zones  ;  kele, 
kelq  feminins  n'ayant  pas  influence  le  masculin  Id  dans  la  zone 
III,  F  explication  de  M.  Rousselot  est  insuffisante.13 

L'examen  des  formes  que  presentent  les  pronoms  possessifs  du 
pluriel  (non  proclitiques)  dans  la  zone  III  ( — as  atone  con- 
serve) nous  met  sur  la  voie.  ^L'aire  ou  — as  ->  -e  (de  Terre- 
bour  a  Agris,  corarae  a  Cellefrouin),  laisse  place  au  doute  : 
dans  lou,  la,  notrZ  (ou  de  plus  en  plus  frequemment,  notr)  "  les 
notres,"  F  I  du  masculin  pourrait  proveuir  de  F  g  du  feminin 
auquel  il  est  identique.  — Par  contre,  de  Rivieres  a  Anthieu,  les 
deux  formes  sont  distinctes  :  — as  y  est  en  effet  represente  non 
plus  par  -8,  mais  par  -a§y  qui  ne  devient  -£  qu'en  position 
syntactique  :  chataiiagy  "  chataignes, "  et  d  la  boune  cataiiagy 
"des  bonnes  chataignes."  On  y  a,  en  consequence,  eccu-illas 
->  *kela§y  ->  kele,  eccu-illi  (eccu  illos)  ->  kl  ;  nostras  -> 
*notraly  -*■  notre  (et  notre  aussi  pour  le  masculin)  ;  pour 
les  pronoms  possessifs,  au  contraire,  la  notragy  f6tn.  s' oppose  a 
lou  notre  masc.  Cet  e  du  masculin  est  un  e  de  soutien. — II  en 
est  de  meme  a  Bunzac,  Pranzac,  la  Brouterie,  ou  — as  atone 
-►  -a  :  bonas  vaccas  ->-  bouna  vdtsa ;  eccu-illas  (nostras)  vaccas 
-**  held  (nouotra)  vdtsa;  mais  le  masculin  (lou)  nouotrZ  "(les) 
n6tres  (nos)"  s' oppose  au  feminin  (la)  nouotra. — La  geographie 
linguistique  nous  enseigne  ainsi  que  dans  le  domaine  oil  — as  de 
flexion  est  conserve^  F  e  s'est  developpe,  dans  les  adjectifs  pos- 
sessifs du  pluriel  comme  dans  les  pronoms  possessifs,  d'un  oz  de 
soutien  (apres  le  groupe  str)  ;  il  ne  s'est  pas  developpe  apres  11  de 
eccu-illi  (eccu-illos)  -*  kl. 

C'est  a  cet  ce  de  soutien  que  je  suis  tente  de  rattacher  la  for- 
mation du  pluriel  allonge  kele,  notre,  etc.,  en  Saintonge  et  dans 

11  Keld(z)  se  rencontre  dans  une  partie  de  la  zone  III,  ou  tous  les — as 
atones  aboutissent  a  — a  (Bunzac,  Pranzac,  etc.);  mais  *kelou  au  masculin 
n'existe  nulle  part  en  Angoumois. 

13  En  effet,  il  n'y  a  pas  lieu  de  supposer  que  eccu-illos  ait  ete,  dans 
1' Angoumois  occidental  et  en  Saintonge,  moins  proclitique  que  dans  l'est 
de  1' Angoumois  et,  au  surplus,  l'explication  ne  vaudrait  pas  pour  les 
formes  des  possessifs  dans  la  zone  III. 


280  TERRACHER  [6 

le  reste  de  1' Angoumois.  De  eccu-illos,  eccu-illas  on  a  eu,  en 
position  syntactique  et  par  suite  d'un  deplacement  d' accent, 
^eccu-illos  (cabdllos),  *eccu-illds  (vdccas),  de  nostros,  nostras  on 
a  eu,  de  m6me,  *nostros  (cabdllos),  *nostrds  (vdccas))  puis, 
tandis  que  1'  — as  d6sinentiel  disparaissait  comme  -os,  -es, 
(vach  "  vaches,"  chat  "chantes,"  le  notr,  masc.  et  fem.  "  les 
notres,"  etc.)  sans  laisser  de  traces,  les  groupes  proclitiques 
^eccu-illos,  *eccu-illds,  *nostros,  ^nostras,  etc.,  ont  passe  a 
^kelce(s'),  *notro3(s)  et  cet  ce  est  devenu  e  sous  1' accent,  d'ou 
les  formes  actuelles  Icele(z),  notre(z),  etc.1* 

S'il  en  est  aiosi,  pourquoi  cette  formation  n'a-t-elle  pris  nais- 
sance  que  dans  le  sud-ouest  de  la  langue  d'o'il?  Cela  tient,  je 
crois,  a  ce  que  le  deplacement  d' accent  (qui  se  produit,  p.  ex., 
dans  les  3emes  personnes  du  pluriel)  est  caracteristique  des  par- 
lers  de  cette  region  :  hdbent  — *  ava,  cdntant  — >  chata,  etc.15 
— Enfin,  si  les  pi  Uriels  allonges  kele,  notre  n'apparaissent  pas 
en  Poitou,  bien  que  le  Poitou  connaisse  aussi  le  deplacement 
d' accent  sur  les  desinences  verbales,  la  raison  en  est  sans  doute 
que  Va  final  atone  s'est  amu'i  beaucoup  plus  tot  en  Poitou  qu'en 
Angoumois  et  en  Saintonge  (le  Poitou  n'offre  que  e  dans  les 
graphies  les  plus  anciennes,  tandis  qu'on  trouve  a  — quelque- 
fois  m6me  pour  Ye  de  soutien — a  une  epoque  assez  tardive  dans 
les  chartes  de  Saintonge  et  d' Angoumois).16 

14  M.  Bourciez,  art.  cite,  p.  63-64,  a  pos£  la  question  de  l'anciennete* 
du  pluriel  allonge"  qui,  dit-il,  "  devait  exister  en  Saintonge  au  XVIe 
siecle,  peut-£tre  des  le  XVe." — Etant  donne  que  Turpin  I  (£crit  en 
Angoumois,  v.  Gorlich,  o.  c,  p.  12)  dcrit  parfois  nostra  "nos"  au  cas 
regime  masc.  plur.  (id.,  p.  108)  tandis  que  la  traduction  poitevine  des 
Sermons  de  Maurice  de  Sully  donne  toujours  noz,  je  crois  que  ce  nostres 
(comme  les  formes  analogues  indique'es  par  Cloetta,  art.  cite,  p.  189)  doit 
s' interpreter  par  *notre.  L' invasion  de  noz  dans  les  textes  diplomatiques 
aussi  bien  que  dans  les  textes  litt^raires  s'est  produite  de  bonne  heure  :  cf., 
par  ex.,  pour  le  feminin  pluriel:  "volons  ....  que  nostres  dettes  saent 
paes  et  noz  amendes .  .  ."     (Archives  Nationales,  J.  407,  piece  5,  (1283)). 

15  Voir  Atlas  linguistique  de  la  France,  cartes  93  (ont),  513  (etaient),  etc. 
— Ce  deplacement  d'accent  est  beaucoup  moins  marque*  dans  la  zone  III 
(surtont  au  sud)  que  dans  les  zones  I  et  II. 

16  Cf.  Gorlich,  p.  72,  et  surtout  Cloetta,  p.  181,  192-193  et  la  note  des 
p.  193-194. 


■  Limite  occidentale  de  -as  ->  -a  dans  les  substantifs  et  adjectifs  feminins  pluriels ;  types  : 

masc.  (/«)  iiuotre,  fern,  (la)  tiuotra ;  masc.  ki  (ou  tt),  fern.  Ma. 

Limite  occidentale  de  -as  -»  -aey  (-e'en  position  syntactique) ;  types  :  masc.  lunotri,  fern,  /i 

nottaey  ;  masc.  et  fern.  «o/r^;  masc.  /«,  fern,  keif. 

Limite  occidentale  de  -as  -»  -i  (plus   ou    moins  disparu) ;    types  :  masc.  et  fern,   lu  (lei) 

notr(e)  ;  notrf  ;  masc.  ki,  fern.  keif. 
Illllllll   Localites  ou  fe/^  masc.  a  triomph£  ou  triomphe  d'un  ki  plus  ancien. 

A  1'ouest  de  ces  limites,  types  :  masc.  et  fcm.  #  (ou,  a  Test  de  la  limite———,  lu  masc, 
/a  fern.)  notr ;  «o/(r)<f ;  fo/<: . 


PROBLEMS  IN  MEDIAEVAL  FABLE  LITERATURE 

BT 

George  C.  Keidel 


Introduction 

The  history  of  literature  in  all  times  and  in  all  countries 
fairly  bristles  with  problems,  and  this  general  statement 
is  especially  true  for  any  species  of  literature  whose  origins 
are  to  be  found  in  the  early  Middle  Ages,  where  Mediaeval 
Fable  Literature  takes  its  rise.1 

1  The  following  are  a  few  recent  works  of  general  scope  which 
deal    with   fable   literature   in   its  broader   aspects: 

a.  For    the    latest    general    article    on    fable    literature    see    the 

Encyclopedia  Britannica,  Eleventh  Edition,  Vol.  x,  pp. 
114-116,  s.  v.  Fable  by  F(rancis)  S(torr).  Cf.  also  Vol.  n, 
p.  194:  Apologue.  The  article  on  Fable  is  merely  that 
of  the  Ninth  Edition  refurbished;  that  on  Apologue  is 
almost  entirely  new. 

b.  Dr.  Michele  Marchiand,  L'Origine  delta  Favola  Greca  e  i  suoi 

Rapport  i  con  le  Favole  Orientali.  Trani:  V.  Vecchi,  1900. 
8vo,  xii  and  504  pp.  Cf.  G.  C.  K.,  '  Brief  Mention,'  in 
AJPh.,  Vol.  xxi  (1900),  p.  476. 

c.  H.   T.  Archibald,   The  Fable  in  Archilochus,   Herodotus,  Livy 

and  Horace.  (Abstract  of  Diss.)  See  PAPA.,  Vol.  xxxin 
(1902),  pp.  Ixxxviii-xc.  Cf.  also  JHUC,  Vol.  xxix  (1910), 
p.  38. 

d.  G.    B.    Zoppi,    La    Morale    della    Favola    ( Tempi    Antiehi    e 

Medioevo).  Milano:  tipografia  editrice  L.  F.  Cogliati, 
Corso  Porta  Romana  17,   1903.     8vo,  vi  and  264  pp. 

e.  Aug.  Wtinsche,  Die  Pflanzenfabel  in  der  Weltliteratur.     Leipzig 

und  Wien:  Akademischer  Vertag  ftir  Kunst  und  Wissenschaft, 
1905.     8vo,  vi  and  184  pp. 

1]  281 


282  KEIDEL  [2 

It  is  true  that  iEsopic  fable  literature  flourished  in 
ancient  times,  but  the  real  origins  of  the  Mediaeval  branch 
are  to  be  sought  in  the  Dark  Ages  following  upon  the  Fall 
of  Eome.  Classical  fable  literature  seems  to  have  circulated 
among  the  folk  chiefly  in  an  oral  form,  for  but  few  fable 
collections  of  moderate  length  have  come  down  to  us.  These 
collections  are,  moreover,  of  a  comparatively  late  date.  A 
small  number  of  stray  fables  from  this  period  is  also  pre- 
served in  the  literary  works  of  various  Classical  authors. 

The  common  people  of  the  old  Eoman  Empire  kept  on 
telling  the  yEsopic  fables  already  known  in  previous  times, 
and  they  also  occasionally  invented  new  ones,  so  that  when 
the  Dark  Ages  had  at  length  passed  away,  and  the  various 
modern  literatures  began  to  be  formed  on  a  Mediaeval  Latin 
background,  there  was  in  existence  a  very  large  number  of 
fables. 

At  this  stage  of  the  development  literary  men  began  to 

f.  Georg    Silcher,     Tierfabel,     Tiermarchen,    und     Tierepos,    mit 

besonderer  Beriicksichtigung   des   Roman  de  Renart.     Reut- 
lingen  Prog.  1905.     4to,  33  pp. 

g.  Oskar  Dahnhardt,  Beitrage  zur  vergleichenden  Sagenforschung, 

in  ZVV.,  Vols,   xvi    (1906),   pp.   369-396;   XVII    (1907),   pp. 

1-16,  129-143.     See  pp.  3-16:  A.     Aesopische  Fabeln. 
h.     Georg    Thiele,    Die    Vorliterarische    Fabel    der    Griechen,    In 

NJ.,  Vol.  xxi    (1908),   pp.  377-400. 
i.     The    Countess    Evelyn    Martinengo    Cesaresco,    The    Place    of 

Animals    in    Human    Thought.     London,    Leipsic:    T.    Fisher 

Unwin,   1909.     8vo,  376   pp.     See  pp.  25,  29-30,  80-81,  351, 

etc. 
j.     Henry  Osborn  Taylor,  The  Mediaeval  Mind:  A  History  of  the 

Development  of  Thought  and  Emotion  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

London:    Macmillan   and   Co.,   Limited,   St.   Martin's   Street, 

1911.     2  vols.  8vo,  xvi,  613;  viii  and  589  pp.    (gives  general 

setting). 
k.     Charles  Mills  Gayley,  The  Classic  Myths  in  English  Literature 

and  in  Art.     New  Edition.     Boston,  etc.:  Ginn  and  Company, 

[1911].     8vo,  xlii  and  597   pp.     See  pp.    1-2:    Chap.   I,   §2: 

The  Fable  and  the  Myth. 


3]  MEDIEVAL   FABLE   LITERATURE  283 

turn  their  attention  to  the  fables  and  add  a  few  of  them 
to  the  traditional  fable  collections  handed  down  from  Classi- 
cal antiquity.  Stray  fables  were  also  embodied  in  various 
literary  works  in  considerable  numbers,  and  these  in  turn 
were  passed  on  from  author  to  author  in  an  unending 
chain.  Side  by  side  with  these  two  currents  practically 
the  whole  mass  of  fables  continued  to  live  on  in  the  mouths 
of  the  people.  Collections  of  fables  when  once  formed  were 
worked  over  in  later  centuries  again  and  again,  first  in  one 
language  and  then  in  another.  As  the  result  of  all  these 
extensive  literary  movements  iEsopic  fable  literature  attained 
its  greatest  development  towards  the  close  of  the  Mediaeval 
period.2 

Now  while  this  general  outline  is  essentially  true  in  its 
main  features,  there  are  a  great  many  questions  in  the 
various  portions  of  the  field  which  are  still  unanswered. 
It  is  the  purpose  of  this  article  to  indicate  briefly  the 
nature  of  some  of  these  questions. 

2  The  views  presented  in  the  present  paper  have  been  derived 
from  the  comparative  study  of  fable  literature  made  during  the 
past  twenty  years  in  connection  with  the  seminary  work  con- 
ducted at  the  Johns  Hopkins  University  by  the  late  Professor 
A.  Marshall  Elliott,  while  preparing  on  an  elaborate  scale  a  critical 
edition  of  the  Fables  of  Marie  de  France.  Cf.  Prof.  Elliott's 
announcement  in  MLN.,  Vol.  vi  (1891),  col.  442;  and  A.  Jeanroy, 
in  La  Grande  Encyclopedic,  s.  v.  Marie  de  France.  As  a  large  part 
of  the  material  used  was  found  in  Mediaeval  manuscripts  and 
incunabula  preserved  in  the  libraries  of  Europe,  it  is  in  most 
instances  impossible  to  refer  to  the  published  work  of  other 
scholars;  and  hence  it  is  to  be  understood  that  in  the  absence 
of  bibliographical  notes  the  data  used  were  obtained  directly  from 
the  sources  themselves. 

As  a  complement  to  these  more  general  statements  there  have 
been  added  in  the  footnotes  bibliographical  data  of  various  kinds. 
In  the  first  place  all  the  work  on  this  subject  published  by  the 
members  of  Professor  Elliott's  seminary  is  cited  in  its  proper 
connection;  and  in  the  second  place  the  representative  work  of 
other  scholars  during  the  last  ten  years  is  added  in  order  to 
round  out  the  survey  of  the  whole  field. 


284  KEIDEL  [4 


Greek  Influence 

The  first  large  problem  which  naturally  presents  itself 
for  consideration  is  the  extent  of  Greek  influence  upon 
Mediaeval  Fable  Literature.  It  may  be  stated  at  the  outset 
that  this  is  probably  the  darkest  and  yet  the  most  important  of 
all  such  problems,  and  that  we  cannot  do  more  here  than  indi- 
cate broadly  the  trend  of  the  various  streams  of  literary 
and  oral  transmission  which  emanated  from  Greece  and 
reached  Western  Europe  during  the  Middle  Ages.3 

s  For  Classical  Greek  and  Latin  fable  literature  consult  the 
following : 

a.     Dott.  G.  Giurdanella  Fusci,  Babrio:   Le  sue  Favole  e  il  loro 

Eapporto  con  le  Esopiane  e  con  quelle  di  Fedro  e  di  Aviano. 

Modica:  tip.  editrice  Carlo  Papa,  1910.     8vo,  ii  and  143  pp. 

6.     Carolus  Ulbricht,  De  Animalium   Nominibus  Aesopeis  Capita 

Tria.     Marpurgi  Cattorum:  typis  academicis  Joh.  Aug.  Koch, 

1908.     8vo,  iv  and  71  pp.    Marburg  Diss. 

c.  Rudolf  Sniend,  Alter  und  Herkunft  des  Achikar-Romans  und 

sein  Verhaltnis  zu  Aesop,  in  Beihefte  zur  Zeitschrift  fiir 
die  Alttestamentliche  Wissenschaft,  xm.  Giessen:  Alfred 
Topelmann  (vormals  J.  Rickers  Verlag),  1908.  8vo,  viii 
and  125  pp.     See  pp.  55-125. 

d.  (August)   Hausrath,  article  on  Fabel  in  Paulys  Real-Encyclo- 

pddie  der  class.  Altertumswiss.  Neue  Bearb.  herausgegeben 
von  Georg  Wissowa.  Vol.  vi  (1909),  cols.  1704-1736.  Cf. 
also  the  articles  on  the  individual  fabulists,  etc. 

e.  For    the    latest    bibliographical    lists    see    Rudolf    Klussmann, 

Bibliotheca  Scriptorum  Classicorum  et  Graecorum  et 
Latinorum,  Bd.  I,  Teil  1.  Leipzig:  O.  R.  Reisland,  1909. 
See  pp.  28-29,   197-203,  363-365,  etc. 

f.  For    the    latest    survey    see    H.    Draheim,    Phddrus    und    die 

romische  Fabelliteratur,  in  BJA.,  Vol.  cxliii  (1909),  pp. 
55-62. 

g.  Pius  Knoll,  Die  Athoshandschrift  des  Babrios,  in  WSt.,  Vol. 

xxxi    (1909),  pp.  200-210. 
h.     Articles  on  special  authors  in  the  Ency.  Brit.,  xith  Ed.,  1910, 
are  the  following: 


5]  MEDIEVAL   FABLE   LITERATURE  285 

a.  Greek  fable  literature  was  certainly  the  chief  back- 
ground of  Latin  fable  literature  in  Classical  times,  and 
thus  indirectly  of  all  the  fable  literature  descended  from 
the  latter. 

b.  There  was  undoubtedly  a  certain  amount  of  direct 
influence  exerted  by  Greek  fables  in  both  a  literary  and  an 
oral  form  upon  Latin  fable  literature  in  the  early  Middle 
Ages,  but  definite  facts  can  scarcely  be  cited. 

c.  At  the  time  of  the  Crusades  it  is  likely  that  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  Greek  fable  literature  filtered  back  into 
Western  Europe  through  the  medium  of  those  who  returned 
from  the  East.    Definite  facts  are  again  wanting.4 

d.  At  other  <times  as  well  it  is  likely  that  ordinary 
pilgrims  to  the  Holy  Land  brought  back  many  Greek  fables 
on  their  return  home,  but  certain  instances  are  not  known. 

e.  Finally  at  the  time  of  the  Renaissance  there  was  a  large 
importation  into  Western  Europe  of  Greek  fables  in  a  literary 
form  by  way  of  Byzantium.  It  is  this  part  of  the  Greek 
field  which  is  at  present  better  known  to  scholars  than  any 
other,  but  even  here  problems  are  numerous.     For  instance, 

Vol.  i,  pp.  276-277:  ^Esop; 
Vol.  II,  p.   168:   Aphthonius; 
Vol.  ill,  pp.  59-80:   Avianus; 
Vol.  in,  pp.  96-97 :  Babrius ;  etc. 
*  I  would  attribute  to  this  source  the  fable  tradition  discussed  in 
the  following  works: 

a.  Georgius  Thiele,  De  Antiquorum  Libris  Pictis  Capita  Quattuor, 
scripsit — .  Marpurgi  Cattorum:  impensis  Elwerti  bibliopolse 
academici,  1897.  8vo,  iv  and  44  pp.  (Habilitationsschrift) . 
See  pp.  36-43:  De  Aesopiarum  fabularum  picturis. 
6.  G.  Thiele,  Der  Illustrierte  Lateinische  Aesop  in  der  Handschrift 
des  Ademar.  Codex  Vossianus  hat.  Oct.  15.  Fol.  195-205 : 
Einleitung  und  Beschreibung.  In  Phototypischer  Reproduc- 
tion, mit  5  Abbildungen  im  Text.  Leiden:  A.  W.  Sijthoff, 
1905.  4to,  vi  and  68  pp.  with  22  plates.  See  especially  pp. 
36-37. 
c.  The  preceding  work  is  reviewed  by  Gustav  G.  Laubscher,  MLN., 
Vol.  xxiii    (1908),  pp.  222-226. 


286  KEIDEL  [6 

there  have  already  been  listed  more  than  a  hundred  manu- 
scripts of  the  late  Middle  Ages  which  contain  collections 
of  Greek  fables,  and  it  is  likely  that  at  least  as  many  more 
are  in  existence.  Yet  the  relations  of  these  manuscripts 
to  one  another  and  to  the  early  editions  are  almost  entirely 
unknown  at  present.  It  is  even  possible  that  some  of  these 
manuscripts  may  belong  to  one  or  another  of  the  categories 
of  fable  tradition  cited  above  as  being  prior  to  the  Renais- 
sance period.5 

Classical  Latin  Influence 

The  main  current  of  Mediaeval  Fable  Literature  appears 
to  have  come  from  Classical  Latin  oral  and  literary  tradition, 
but  details  are  largely  wanting.  The  history  of  the  oral 
tradition  escapes  us  almost  entirely,  while  the  literary 
tradition  gives  us  only  a  few  glimpses  into  its  being  in 
late  Classical  times,  and  then  disappears  altogether  in  the 
Dark  Ages.  After  the  latter  have  passed  it  again  emerges 
into  view  in  a  greatly  altered  form,  leaving  the  history  of 

5  a.  August  Hausrath,  Uniersuchungen  zur  Ueberlieferung  der 
Aesopischen  Fabeln,  in  JCPS.,  Vol.  xxi  (1894),  pp.  245-312. 
( Describes  and  discusses   more   than   forty  manuscripts ) . 

b.  Dr.    Carolus    Muellner,    Apologi    Centum    Bartholomcei    Scalce, 

Equitis  Aurati  et  Secretarii  Florentini.  Wien:  Verlag  des 
k.  k.  Staatsgymnasiums  im  xvii.  Bezirke  von  Wien 
(Hernals),    1896.     8vo,   40   pp.     Wien  Program. 

c.  Dr.     Wilhelm     Weinberger,     Wiener     Aesop- Handschrif ten,     in 

Mittheilungen  des  bsterr.  Vereines  fur  Bibliothekswesen,  Vol. 
II   (1898),  pp.  63-66. 

d.  Aug.   Hausrath,   Die   Aesopstudien   des   Maximus   Planudes,   in 

BZ.,  Vol.  x   (1901),  pp.  91-105. 

e.  Michele  Marchiano  has  announced  the  publication  of  La  Vita 

di  Esopo  attribuita  a  Massimo  Planude,  Ricerca  della  Fonte. 
See  A.  De  Gubernatis,  Dictionnaire  International  des  ftcri- 
vains  du  Monde  Latin,  Rome-Florence,   1905,  p.  948. 


7]  MEDIEVAL    FABLE    LITERATURE  287 

its  changes  in  the  intervening  period  a  theme  for  interesting 
speculation.6 

Direct  literary  influence  of  the  Classical  Latin  texts  during 
the  Middle  Ages  seems  to  have  been  very  slight,  the  popular 
versions  having  a  practically  complete  sway  down  to  the 
Renaissance. 

The   Classical   Latin   influence   is   therefore   essentially   a 

'a.  Anton  v.  Premerstein,  Zum  Codex  Remensis  des  Phaedrus 
und  Querolus,  in  Mittheilungen  des  bsterr.  Vereines  fur  Biblio- 
theksicesen,  Vol.  I   (1897),  pp.  1-7    (with  2  facs.). 

b.  Georg  Thiele,  Phaedrus-Studien,  in  Her.,  "Vol.  xli   (1906),  pp. 

562-592;   and  Vol.  xliii    (1908),  pp.   337-372. 

c.  Johannes    Bolte,   Andrea    Guarnas   Bellum   Grammaticale   und 

seine  Nachahmungen,  herausgegeben  von  — .  Berlin:  A. 
Hoffman  &  Comp.,  1908.  8vo,  xcii  and  307  pp.  (Monumenta 
Germanios  Pcedagogica,  Bd.  xliii).  See  pp.  16  and  241-246: 
Der  Streit  der  Glieder  mit  dem  Magen.  (The  author  attrib- 
utes this  Pseudo-Ovidian  poem  to  a  humanist  "  vor  1500," 
and  publishes  the  text  from  a  Cologne  edition  of  about 
1520.) 

d.  Carlo   Pascal,   Letteratura  Latina  Medievale:   Nuovi  Saggi   e 

Note  Critiche.  Catania:  Casa  Editrice  Francesco  Battiato, 
1909.  12mo,  viii  and  199  pp.  See  pp.  91-102  (Belly  and 
Members  attributed  to  Ovid ) . 

e.  Georg    Thiele,    Der   Lateinische    Aesop    des    Romulus    und    die 

Prosa-Fassungen  des  Phadrus:  Kritischer  Text  mit  Kommen- 
tar  und  einleitenden  Untersuchungen.  Heidelberg:  Carl 
Winter's  Universitatsbuchhandlung,  1910.  8vo,  ccxxxviii 
and  360  pp.  with  7  facsimiles. 

,'.  Georg  Thiele,  Fabeln  des  Lateinischen  Aesop,  fur  Uebungen 
ausgewahlt.  Heidelberg:  Carl  Winter's  Universitatsbuch- 
handlung, 1910.     8vo,  x  and  72  pp. 

g.     Wilhelm  Kroll  und  Franz  Skutsch,  W.  S.  Teuffels  Geschichte 

der  Rbmischen  Literatur,  neu  bearbeitet  von  .     Sechste 

Auflage.  Zweiter  Band.  Leipzig  und  Berlin:  Druck  und 
Verlag  von  B.  G.  Teubner,  1910.  8vo,  vi  and  348  pp.  See 
pp.    210-213    (Phaedrus). 

h.  R.  Bitschofsky,  Zu  den  Fabeln  des  Romulus,  in  WSt.,  Vol. 
xxxii   (1910),  pp.  261-271. 


288  KEIDEL  [8 

single  broad  stream  flowing  along  with  the  whole  intellectual 
life  of  the  peoples  of  Western  Europe  during  the  period 
under  consideration. 

Problems  of  Development 

Having  thus  indicated  briefly  the  questions  clustering 
about  the  general  problem  of  origins,  there  remain  to  be 
noticed  a  number  of  others  concerning  the  development  of 
fable  literature  in  Western  Europe  within  the  period  of  the 
modern  literatures.  The  accessible  data  for  such  a  discussion 
are  much  more  numerous  than  for  the  earlier  period,  but 
their  very  multiplicity,  as  well  as  the  intricacy  of  their 
mutual  relations,  gives  rise  to  a  great  number  of  problems, 
most  of  which  are  still  unsolved. 

This  mass  of  fable  literature  may  be  divided  into  cate- 
gories as  follows: 

a.  Manuscripts  containing  collections  of  fables  in  Greek, 
Latin  and  the  various  Eomance  and  Teutonic  languages, 
which  are  extant  to  the  number  of  perhaps  fifteen  hundred.7 

1  No  extensive  list  of  such  manuscripts  has  as  yet  been  published. 
M.  Leopold  Hervieux  in  his  well-known  work  Les  Fabulistes  Latins, 
Paris,  1884-1891,  7  vols.,  has  described  about  three  hundred  and 
fifty  of  them,  and  the  tables  of  contents  to  the  various  volumes  of 
his  work  give  the  best  brief  reference  list  to  them  accessible  to 
scholars.     For  a  list  of  French  fable  manuscripts  see: 

a.     George  C.  Keidel,  The  History  of  French  Fable  Manuscripts, 

in  PMLA.,  Vol.  xxrv    (1909),  pp.  207-219. 
For  a  general   list  of  fable   manuscripts   see: 
6.     George  C.  Keidel,  A  Manual  of  Msopic  Fable  Literature,  Fasc. 
2     (not    yet    published).      The    bibliography    prepared    for 
publication  contains  about  one  thousand  manuscripts  in  all 
languages. 
For  important  recent  additions  see: 

c.  Heinrich  Schenkl,  Bibliotheca  Patrum  Latinorum  Britannica 
XIII  (Index),  s.  vv.  Aesopus  latine,  Avianus,  Fabulae,  Vin- 
centius  Bellovacensis,  Aesopi  fabulae  [grace],  etc.,  in  Wiener 
Akademie,  8.B.,  Ph.-  Hist.  Klasse,  Vol.  clvii    (1908),  VII. 


9]  MEDIEVAL   FABLE   LITERATURE  289 

b.  Manuscripts  containing  stray  fables,  whose  number 
cannot  be  even  approximately  estimated.8 

c.  Fifteenth  century  editions  of  fable  collections  (usually 
combined  in  one  volume  with  other  works)  appear  to  be 
approximately  one  per  cent,  of  the  entire  number  of  incuna- 
bula published.  Their  number  may  be  estimated  as  about 
three  hundred  and  fifty  editions,  each  one  extant  on  the 
average  in  about  twenty  copies.9 

8  George  C.  Keidel,  A  Manual  of  JEsopic  Fable  Literature,  Fasc.  3, 
is  intended  to  contain  an  extensive  bibliography  of  stray  fables 
contained  in  Mediaeval  manuscripts.  This  fascicule  Is  at  present 
in  preparation. 

•For    fable    incunabula    the    following    may    be    consulted: 

a.  George  C.  Keidel,  An  Early  German  Edition  of/Esop's  Fables, 

in  JHUC.,  Vol.  xv  (1895-1896),  pp.  42-43. 

b.  George  C.  Keidel,  An  Early  German  Edition  of  ^Esop's  Fables, 

in  MLK,  Vol.  xi    (1896),  cols.  46-48. 

c.  George  C.  Keidel,  A  Manual  of  JEsopic  Fable  Literature,  Fasc. 

1.  Baltimore,  The  Friedenwald  Company,  1896.  8vo,  xxiv 
and  76  pp.  (with  3  facsimiles).  {Romance  and  Other 
Studies,  rr.)  The  great  activity  of  incunabulum  bibliog- 
raphers during  the  past  fifteen  years  has  brought  to  light 
many  editions  not  listed  in  this  bibliography,  a  second  edition 
of  which  has  been  in  preparation   for   some  time. 

d.  George  C.  Keidel,  Notes  on  Fable  Incunabula  containing  the 

Planudean  Life  of  Aesop,  in  BZ.,  Vol.  xi  (1902),  pp.  461-467 
(describes  editions  containing  fable  collections  as  well). 

e.  Dr.  Sigmund  Scholl,  Guillaume  Tardif  und  seine  franzbsische 

Uebersetzung  der  Fabeln  des  Laurentius  Valla.  Kempten: 
Buchdruckerei  der  Jos.  Kosel'schen  Buchhandlung,  1903.  8vo, 
22  pp.  Kempten  Prog.  (This  collection  does  not  seem  to 
be  extant  in   manuscript  form ) . 

f.  George  C.  Keidel,  The  Editio  Princeps  of  the  Greek  Msop,  in 

AJR,  Vol.  xxiv   (1903),  pp.  304-317    (with  facsimile). 

g.  Isak  Collijn,  Blad  ur  v&r  aldsta  svenska  Boktryckerihistoria,  i 

Dialogus  Creaturarum,  vdrt  forsta  daterade  Tryck.     Sartryck 
ur  Nordisk  Boktryckarekonst,  1905.     4to,  401-414  pp. 
h.     George  C.  Keidel,  The  Foliation  Systems  of  French  Incunabula, 
in  ZFSL.,  Vol.  xxrx   (1906),  pp.  150-162   (describes  several 
fable  incunabula ) . 

18 


290  KEIDEL  [10 

d.  Fifteenth  century  editions  containing  stray  fables,  which 
are  probably  very  numerous.  The  accessible  data  on  this 
subject  are  extremely  scanty,  and  hence  no  approximate 
estimate  of  their  number  can  be  given.10 

In  a  general  way  it  may  be  stated  that  the  bibliographical 
problems  surrounding  these  thousands  upon  thousands  of 
manuscripts,  editions  and  copies  are  for  the  most  part  still 
unsolved.  The  question  of  their  manifold  interrelations 
presents  even  more  numerous  problems  which  require  solution 
before    the   entire    field    can    be    thoroughly   understood   by 

t.  Carolyn  Shipman,  Researches  Concerning  Jean  Grolier:  His 
Life  and  His  Library.  The  Grolier  Club  of  the  City  of  New 
York,  1907.  8vo,  xlvi  and  386  pp.  On  p.  157  there  is 
described  as  bound  for  Jean  Grolier  a  copy  of  Francesco 
del  Tuppo,  Esopo  Historiado,  1493.  This  volume  was  un- 
known to  Leroux  de  Lincy,  but  it  is  now  in  the  library  of 
J.  Pierpont  Morgan  in  New  York. 

j.  (Paul  Kristeller),  Ulrich  Boner,  Der  Edelstein:  Lichtdruck- 
nachbildung  der  undatierten  Ausgabe  im  Besitze  der  Kgl. 
Bibliothek  zu  Berlin,  nebst  sechs  Tafeln  nach  der  Ausgabe 
der  Herzogl.  Bibliothek  zu  Wolfenbuttel.  In  Berlin  bei 
Bruno  Cassirer,  1908.  4to,  iv  pp.  and  164  plates.  (Graph- 
ische  Gesellschaft,  I.  ausserordentliche  Veroffentlichung). 

k.  R.  A.  Peddie,  Fifteenth  Century  Books:  An  Author  Index, 
in  LWd.,  Vols,  xi  et  sqq.  See  Vol.  XI  (1908-1909),  pp.  83-86, 
etc.  This  is  probably  the  latest  and  fullest  published  list  of 
fable  incunabula,  of  which  Mr.  Peddie  has  kindly  sent  to  the 
author  of  the  present  article  a  copy  with  numerous  manu- 
script additions.  Also  issued  as :  Conspectus  Incunabulorum, 
Part  I.  (A-B).  London:  Libraco  Ltd.,  60  Wilson  Street, 
1910.     8vo,  xii  and  149  pp.     See  pp.  9-12  and  145,  etc. 

I.  Gustav  G.  Laubscher,  Notes  on  the  Spanish  Ysopo  of  1496, 
in  MLN.,  Vol.  xxiv   (1909),  pp.  70-71. 

m.  George  C.  Keidel,  A  World  Census  of  Incunabula,  in  MLN., 
Vol.  xxv  (1910),  pp.  161-165  (contains  general  statistics 
for  incunabula  which  have  a  direct  bearing  on  the  question 
of  fable  incunabula). 

"As  a  specimen  reference  there  may  be  cited  the  early  editions 
of  Johannes  Bromiardus,  Summa  Prcedicantium. 


11]  MEDIAEVAL   FABLE    LITERATURE  291 

scholars.11  It  is  gratifying,  however,  to  note  that  some 
progress  has  been  made  in  recent  years  in  the  treatment  of 
this  last -mentioned  group  of  problems;  but  it  is  only  in 
the  case  of  the  Romance  and  Teutonic  literatures  that  an 
appreciable  amount  has  been  accomplished.  Mediaeval  Latin 
Fable  Literature,  especially  in  the  later  centuries,  is  still 
a  comparatively  unexplored  field  of  investigation.12 

Specific  Problems 

Having  indicated  in  a  summary  manner  the  larger  questions 
which  confront  the  modern  investigator  of  Mediaeval  Fable 
Literature,  we  may  now  consider  certain  more  specific 
problems  confined  within  narrower  limits  of  time  and  terri- 

u  From  1891  to  1910  several  hundred  of  the  problems  were 
investigated  by  various  members  of  the  seminary  conducted  by 
Professor  A.  Marshall  Elliott  with  the  assistance  of  the  author 
of  the  present  article.  The  following  comparative  studies  of  single 
fables  have  been  published,  while  many  more  similar  studies  are 
still  in  the  condition  in  which  they  were  when  presented  as  reports 
to  the  seminary  in  question. 

a.     Georg  C.  Keidel,  Die  Eselherz-   {Hirschherz,-  Eberherz-)  Fabel, 

in  ZVL.,  N.F.,  Vol.  vn  (1894),  pp.  264-267. 
6.     E.  P.  Dargan,  Cock  and  Fox:  A  Critical  Study  of  the  History 
and  Sources  of  the  Mediaeval  Fable,  in  MPhi.,  Vol.  iv  (1906- 
1907),  pp.  38-65. 

c.  H.  Carrington  Lancaster,  The  Sources  and  Mediaeval  Versions 

of  the  Peace-Fable,  in  PMLA.,  Vol.  xxn  (1907),  pp.  33-55 
(with  version  tree).  Cf.  summary  by  J.  Bolte  in  his  article 
entitled  Neuere  Mdrchenliteratur,  in  ZW.,  Vol.  xvrn 
(1908),   pp.  450-461.     See  pp.  451-452. 

d.  H.  D.  Austin,  The  Origin  and  Greek  Versions  of  the  Strange- 

Feathers  Fable,  see  below. 

e.  Albert  E.   Curdy,   The   Versions  of   the  Fable  of  the  Peacock 

and  Juno,  see  below. 
"    a.     Ambrogio    Oldrini,    L'Ultimo    Favolista    Medievale:    Frate 
Bono  Stoppani  da  Como  e  le  sue  Fabulae  Mistice  Declaratae, 
in  SMe.,  Vol.  n    (1906),  pp.  155-218    (with  facsimile). 


292  KEIDEL  [12 

tory,  and  whose  existence  at  present  is  largely  due  to  the 
scarcity  of  critical  text  editions  of  the  various  fable  col- 
lections concerned,  and  the  consequent  lack  of  a  careful 
sifting  of  such  evidence  as  is  attainable  by  modern  scholars. 

While  the  number  of  such  editions  already  issued  is 
encouraging,  the  fact  remains  that  they  are  for  the  most 
part  widely  scattered  over  the  entire  field.  These  editions 
have  been  almost  exclusively  undertaken  because  of  the 
linguistic  or  literary  interest  of  the  texts  edited,  and  not 
for  the  purpose  of  penetrating  into  the  mysteries  of  literary 
tradition.  The  result  has  been  that  the  work  done  has  not 
been  coordinated  to  any  marked  extent,  which  would  have 
been  the  case  had  the  object  been  to  trace  out  the  history  of 
a  given  family  of  fable  collections.13 

The  above  remarks  apply  only  to  fable  collections  and 
have  no  reference  to  the  exceedingly  numerous  isolated  fables 
occurring  in  the  midst  of  various  literary  works.  In  this 
field  almost  everything  is  still  virgin  soil  for  the  fable  his- 

13  As  an  illustration  of  the  above  statement  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  of  the  various  French,  Italian  and  Gorman  collections  of 
fables  roughly  speaking  only  about  one  in  four  has  been  critically 
edited,  while  for  the  Latin  the  proportion  is  perhaps  one  in  twenty. 
The  following  editions  of  fable  collections  have  been  published  by 
members  of  the  Romance  Department  of  the  Johns  Hopkins 
University : 

a.  Murray  Peabody  Brush,  The  Isopo  Laurenziano,  edited  with 
Notes  and  an  Introduction  treating  of  the  Interrelation  of 
Italian  Fable  Collections.  Columbus,  Ohio:  printed  by  the 
Lawrence  Press  Co.,  1899.  8vo,  viii  and  187  pp.  with  two 
facsimiles.     Johns  Hopkins  Diss. 

6.  Enrico  Rostagno  reviews  the  preceding  dissertation  at  con- 
siderable length  for  the  manuscript  readings  in  GSLL,  Vol. 
xxxvn   (1901),  pp.  371-378. 

c.  Murray  P.  Brush,  Ysopet  III  of  Paris,  in  PMLA.,  Vol.  xxiv 

(1909),  pp.  494-546.     Cf.  p.  ix. 

d.  Guy  Everett  Snavely,  Ysopet  de  Jehan  de  Vignay,  see  below. 

e.  Murray  P.  Brush,  Esopo  Zuccarino,  edited  by ,  see  below. 

Several  other  editions  of  similar  texts  are  in  course  of  preparation. 


13]  MEDIAEVAL   FABLE   LITERATURE  293 

torian,  for  scholars  have  hitherto  mentioned  only  a  few  of 
them  incidentally  and  have  not  attempted  a  systematic  search 
for  such  texts.  Indeed  it  seems  likely  that  the  problems  of 
discovery  and  derivation  connected  with  stray  fables  are  even 
more  numerous  and  intricate  than  those  relating  to  fable 
collections.14 

"The  following  is  a  brief  and  very  incomplete  list  of  publications 
which  may  be  consulted  on  the  subject  of  stray  fables  in  the 
Middle  Ages: 

o.     George  C.  Keidel,  An  Aesopic  Fable  in  Old  French  Prose,  in 

AJP.,   Vol.   xxn    (1901),   pp.   78-79. 
6.     Georg    C.    Keidel,    Zur    Altfranzosischen    Fabelliteratur,    in 
LBL,  Vol.  xxin  (1902),  cols  33-38. 

c.  Charles  Philip  Wagner,  The  Sources  of  El  Cavallero  Cifar,  in 

RH.,  Vol.  x  (1903),  pp.  5-104.  See  pp.  74-78,  where  four 
fables  and  their  parallels  are  discussed. 

d.  Philip  Warner  Harry,  A   Comparative  Study  of   the  Msopic 

Fable  in  Nicole  Bozon,  in  University  Studies  of  the  University 
of  Cincinnati,  Series  II,  Vol.  I,  No.  2.  Cincinnati,  O: 
The  University  of  Cincinnati  Press,  1905.  8vo,  84  pp.  (Also 
issued  separately   as   a  Johns  Hopkins  Diss.     8vo,   86  pp.) 

e.  Jean    Ducamin,    Pierre    Alphonse,    Disciplines    de    Clergie    et 

de  Moraine's,  traduites  en  Gascon  Girondin  du  XlVe-XVe 
Siecle,  publiees  pour  la  premiere  fois  d'apres  un  ms.  de 
la  Bibliotheque  Nationale  de  Madrid,  avec  fac-simile,  carte, 

6tude    morphologique,    etc.,    par    .     Toulouse:     librairie 

Edouard  Privat,  14  Rue  des  Arts,  1908.  8vo,  xxviii  and 
304  pp. 

f.  Milton    Stahl    Garver,    Sources   of    the   Beast   Similes   in    the 

Italian  Lyric  of  the  Thirteenth  Century,  in  RF.,  Vol.  xxi 
(1908),  pp.  276-320  f.  See  especially  pp.  320a-320b  for 
Italian   fables. 

g.  Ernesto  Monaci,  Archivio  Paleografico  ItaUano,  Vol.  vr  ( 1909 ) , 

pp.  30-31  (facsimile  of  Latin  fable). 
h.  J.  A.  Herbert,  Catalogue  of  Romances  in  the  Department  of 
Manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum.  Vol.  m.  London: 
Printed  by  Order  of  the  Trustees,  1910.  8vo,  xii  and  720 
pp.  This  volume  deals  with  collections  of  stories  containing 
many  stray  fables.  Pp.  507-509  give  an  account  of  certain 
Latin  fables  closely  connected  with  the  Esope  of  Marie  de 


294  KEIDEL  [14 

In  the  following  paragraphs  attention  will  be  called  to 
a  number  of  specific  problems  that  offer  good  opportunities 
for  scholarly  work. 

The  oldest  and  most  important  of  the  Mediaeval  fable 
collections  goes  by  the  name  of  the  Romulus,  and  the  many 
questions  concerning  its  origin  and  early  history  have  been 
the  subject  of  investigation  in  recent  years  by  Dr.  Georg 
Thiele  of  the  University  of  Marburg,  whose  works  on  the 
subject  have  been  previously  cited.  From  the  parent  Romulus 
a  very  large  number  of  Mediaeval  collections  have  descended, 
and  the  inter-relations  of  this  group  of  texts  form  the 
central  problem  of  Mediaeval  Fable  Literature.  This  prob- 
lem was  attacked  with  great  enthusiasm  by  the  late  M. 
Leopold  Hervieux  (f  Mar.  29,  1900)  of  Paris,  but  much 
work  on  it  still  remains  to  be  done. 

About  the  time  of  the  Norman  Conquest,  England  played 
a  very  important  role  in  the  history  of  Mediaeval  Fable 
Literature,  but  the  manner  in  which  this  literature  was 
introduced  into  the  country,  as  well  as  the  early  course  of 
its  development  there,  remains  largely  a  mystery.15 

In  the  twelfth  century  an  important  current  of  fable 
literature  seems  to  have  flowed  from  England  into  Germany 
and  become  the  source  of  much  of  the  early  development 
of  this  species  of  literature  in  the  latter  country.  The 
details  of  this  movement  are  unknown,  but  it  seems  likely 
that  an  English  monk  migrating  to  a  German  monastery 
in  the  Shine  valley  took  with  him  an  English  collection  of 

France.  Pp.  718-720  describe  a  manuscript  citing  "fables 
de  Esopet  et  de  Auianet." 

i.  The  Donnei  des  Amanz,  an  Anglo-Norman  didactic  work,  con- 
tains the  fable  of  the  Man  and  the  Serpent.  Cf.  L.  M. 
Brandin  in  Ency.  Brit.,  xith  Ed.,  Vol.  II,  p.  33. 

j.  George  C.  Keidel,  A  Fabliaux  Fable,  in  MLN.,  Vol.  rx  (1894), 
col.  200. 

"a.  Cf.  D.  S.  Blondheim,  A  Note  on  the  Sources  of  Marie  de 
France,  in  MLN.,  Vol.  xxm  (1908)  pp.  201-202  (discusses  the 
Romulus  Metricus  and  the  fable  of  the  Nightingale  and  Hawk). 


15]  MEDIAEVAL   FABLE   LITERATURE  295 

fables,  which  he  then  translated  into  Latin  for  the  edification 
of  his  German  brethren,  who  understood  only  Latin  in 
addition  to  their  mother  tongue. 

During  a  great  part  of  the  Middle  Ages  it  was  customary 
to  append  to  every  collection  of  Romulus  fables  a  short  series 
taken  from  the  well-known  work  of  Flavius  Avianus  in  late 
Classical  times.  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  how  and 
when  this  custom  arose,  and  much  of  value  concerning  the 
literary  practices  of  the  age  might  be  learned  by  an  investi- 
gation of  this  question. 

In  the  later  Middle  Ages  the  largest  and  most  important 
group  of  fable  collections  was  derived  from  the  work  of 
Gualterus  Anglicus,  composed  in  Latin  distichs  towards  the 
close  of  the  twelfth  century;  and  many  involved  problems 
still  existing  in  this  group  have  an  important  bearing  not 
only  on  the  fable  literature  of  the  time,  but  also  on  that 
of  succeeding  centuries.  Hence  a  thorough  investigation 
of  its  history  is  still  to  be  desired,  especially  for  the  student 
of  the  vernacular  literatures.16 

In  the  early  Middle  Ages  Avianus  was  a  favorite  textbook 
in  the  schools,  but  later  he  was  supplanted  quite  generally 
by  Gualterus  Anglicus.  The  history  of  this  change  in  popular 
favor  would  be  a  subject  well  worth  while  to  investigate, 
especially  in  connection  with  the  other  textbooks  current  in 
the  same  period.  Many  Mediaeval  authors  refer  to  the  edu- 
cational use  of  fables  in  their  day. 

Marie  de  France  translated  from  English  into  French 
what  became  the  most  popular  collection  of  fables  in  the 
language    prior   to   La    Fontaine.      While    much   work   has 

"For  some  of  the  latest  work  in  this  field  compare  the  following 
articles : 

a.     George    C.    Keidel,    Review   of   Dr.    J.    Leite   de  Vasconcellos, 

0  Livro  de  Esopo:  Fabulario  Portugues  Medieval,  in  ZRPh., 

Vol.   xxxii    (1908),   pp.   88-95. 
6.    H.  E.   Smith,  An  Early  Italian  Edition  of  JEsop's  Fables,  in 

MLN.,   Vol.   xxv    (1910),    pp.    65-67. 


296  KEIDEL  [16 

already  been  done  by  various  scholars  on  the  text  and  literary 
antecedents  of  her  Esope,  the  influence  which  she  exerted 
on  later  Mediaeval  French  and  English  literature  still  remains 
to  be  traced.  It  is  possible  that  in  Spain  her  work  was  also 
well-known,  as  it  has  already  been  amply  shown  to  have 
been  in  Italy.17 

Vincentius  Bellovacensis  in  the  thirteenth  century  inserted 
a  small  collection  of  fables  in  his  great  encyclopaedia,  whence 
many  later  works  dealing  with  the  world's  history  especially 
drew  their  knowledge  of  the  subject.  The  questions  sur- 
rounding the  development  of  Mediaeval  encyclopaedias  in 
general  are,  however,  still  so  largely  unsolved  that  no  one 
has  as  yet  ascertained  what  the  influence  of  this  particular 
section  was  upon  the  literature  of  succeeding  centuries.18 

"    a.    Compare   the   dissertations  of  Murray  Peabody  Brush  and 

Philip   Warner   Harry   already   cited. 
6.     Wailter  T.  Peirce,  Correspondence,  in  MLN.,  Vol.  xvm  (1903), 

pp.  127-128   (note  on  fable  lx  of  Marie  de  France). 

c.  The  latest  brief  accounts  of   Marie  de  France  published  are 

those  by  P.  J.  Marique  in  The  Catholic  Encyclopedia,  Vol. 
ix  (1910),  667;  and  by  an  anonymous  writer  in  the  Ency. 
Brit.,  xith  Ed.,  Vol..  xvn,  pp.  712-713. 

d.  John  Charles  Fox,  Marie  de  France,  in  EHR.,  Vol.  xxv  (1910), 

pp.  303-306   (probably  the  half-sister  of  King  Henry  II). 

e.  George  C.  Keidel,  Old  French  Fables:   The  Interrupted  Work 

of  the  Late  Professor  Elliott,  Baltimore,  1910.     8vo,   6  pp. 

(Based  in  part  on  seminary  reports  by  J.  F.  Mason  and 
G.   E.   Wisewell.) 

f.  Frederick    Bliss    Luquiens,    Three   Lays    of  Marie   de   France 

retold  in  English  Verse.  New  York:  Henry  Holt  and  Com- 
pany, 1911.  8vo,  xxxiv  and  63  pp.  (cf.  Introduction  and 
Bibliography). 
18  The  latest  work  in  this  field  is  represented  by  the  following: 
a.  Guy  Everett  Snavely,  The  ^Esopic  Fables  in  the  Mireoir 
Historial  of  Jehan  de  Vignay,  edited  with  Introduction, 
Notes  and  Bibliography.  Baltimore:  J.  H.  Furst  Company, 
1908.  8vo,  47  pp.  (with  facsimile).  (Introduction  only 
published.)     Johns  Hopkins  Diss. 


17]  MEDIEVAL   FABLE   LITERATURE  297 

Mediaeval  French  catalogues,  inventories  and  accounts  con- 
tain many  descriptions  of  French  fable  manuscripts  which 
should  be  collected  and  compared  with  existing  manuscripts 
in  order  to  learn  more  of  their  early  history.  A  similar 
statement  is  true  for  the  other  vernacular  languages,  though 
perhaps  to  a  lesser  degree.19 

The  history  of  the  ^sopic  fable  in  Provencal  literature 
needs  to  be  investigated  more  carefully  than  has  hitherto 
been  done,  and  especially  the  influence  which  it  may  have 
exerted  upon  stray  fables  in  German,  Italian  ^and  other 
modern  literatures. 

The  history  of  Italian  fable  literature,  to  which  Dr.  Murray 
P.  Brush  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University  and  Dr.  Kenneth 
McKenzie  of  Yale  University  have  already  made  important 
contributions,  calls  for  further  investigation.  Critical 
editions  of  the  many  extant  Italian  texts  would  be  especially 
desirable.20 

Note.  In  a  fire  which  occurred  in  the  Library  of  the  Johns 
Hopkins  University  on  September  17,  1908,  the  original  dissertation 
was  almost  entirely  destroyed.  The  text  of  the  fables  is  now 
published  for  the  first  time  below. 

**  a.  George  C.  Keidel,  The  Msopic  Fable  in  Spain  and  Portugal 
during  the  Middle  Ages,  in  JHUC,  Vol.  xx  (1900-1901), 
p.  16. 

b.  George  C.  Keidel,  Notes  on  JEsopic  Fable  Literature  in  Spain 

and  Portugal  During  the  Middle  Ages,  in  ZRPh.,  Vol.  xxv 
(1901),  pp.  721-730. 

c.  George  C.  Keidel,   The  History  of  French  Fable   Manuscripts, 

in  PMLA.,   Vol.  xxiv    (1909),   pp.  207-219. 

20  The  following  are  Dr.  McKenzie's  two  latest  publications  on 
fable  literature,  in  which  references  to  his  earlier  work  may  be 
found  : 

a.  Italian    Fables    in    Verse,    in    PMLA.,    Vol    xxi    (1906),    pp. 

226-278. 

b.  Note  sulle   Antiche   Favole   Italiane,   in   Miscellanea  di  Studi 

Critici  e  Ricerche  Erudite  in  Onore  di  V.  Crescini,  Cividale 
del  Friuli:  Officina  Grafica  dei  Fratelli  Stagnl,  1910.  See 
pp.  59-74. 


298  KEIDEL  [18 

The  history  of  the  stray  iEsopic  fables  in  the  various 
literatures  of  the  Iberic  peninsula  is  still  unwritten,  although 
it  would  doubtless  afford  abundant  scope  for  scholarly  work. 
In  this  territory  these  stray  fables  greatly  antedate  in  many 
instances  the  fable  collections  of  a  similar  origin,  an  unusual 
situation  which  should  be   thoroughly  investigated.21 

21  a.  Fonger  De  Haan,  An  Outline  of  the  History  of  the  Novela 
Picaresca  in  Spain.  The  Hague  -  New  York :  Martinus 
Nijhoff,  1903.  8vo,  xii  and  125  pp.  Johns  Hopkins  Diss., 
1895.     See   pp.   37-39   and   112. 

6.  Milton  A.  Buchanan,  Sebastian  Mey's  Fabulario,  in  MLN.,  Vol. 
xxi  (1906),  pp.  167-171  and  201-205  (may  be  consulted 
for  parallel  versions). 

c.  G.  T.   Northup,  El  Libro  de   los   Gatos:   A   Text  with  Intro- 

duction and  Notes,  in  MPhi.,  Vol.  v  (1908),  pp.  477-554. 
(Also  issued  separately  as  a  Chicago  Diss.  8vo,  ii  and  78  pp.) 
A  few  stray  fables  from  the  Espejo  de  los  Legos  are  here 
published. 

d.  Owing   to    its   unusual   bibliographical    interest   the   following 

description  of  a  Spanish  unicum  is  here  appended. 

La  Ciudad  de  Dios:  Revista  Quincenal  Religiose,  Cientifica 
y  Literaria  dedicada  ad  Gran  Padre  San  Agustfn  y  publicada 
por  los  PP.  Agustinos  del  Escorial.  Volumen  lviii. 
Redaccion  y  Administraci6n :  Real  Monasterio  de  San 
Lorenzo  del  Escorial  (Madrid),  1902.  8vo,  712  pp.  Pp. 
251-258:  P.  B.  Fernandez,  Real  Biblioteca  del  Escorial 
(Notas  y  Comunicaciones) .  Mayo  de  1902.  Nuevos 
Incunables  Espanoles. 

On  p.  254  the  book  in  question  is  thus  described: 

45.  Esopo — "  Esta  es  la  vida  del  ysopet  con  |  sus  fabulas 
hystoriadas." — Zaragoza,  Juan  Hurus,  1489. 

Fol. — Dim.  de  la  caja  tipografica,  variables. — cxxxii  hs. 
num. — Sign.:  a^b-ghh^A^B-PEK — let.  g6t.  de  dos  tamafios, 
con  capit.  de  adorno. — 204  grabados  en  madera  repartidos- 
entre  el  texto. 

Port,  con  el  tit.  trascrito. — A  la  v.,  figura  de  Esopo 
rodeado  de  animales,  aves  y  varios  objetos  que  figuran 
en  sus  fabulas,  y  debajo,  sobre  un  campo,  dos  tenantes 
con  escudete  en  bianco. — Fol.  II:  [C]Omyenea  la  vida 
del  ysopet  muy  claro  7  acu  |  tissimo  fablador  sacada  7 
romagada  clara  7  abiertamete  de  latin  en  legua  castellana 


19]  MEDIEVAL   FABLE   LITERATURE  299 

The  earliest  texts  in  German  offer  a  considerable  number 
of  stray  fables,  whose  history  is  still  involved  in  deep  obscurity, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  occur  chiefly  in  the  works  of 
well-known  minnesingers.  The  most  important  problem  con- 
nected with  them  is  seemingly  that  of  origin,  although  a 
careful  study  of  the  situation  might  develop  other  phases  of 
the  subject  worthy  of  the  attention  of  scholars.22 

.  .  .  La  ql  vulgarizacio  7  trasladamieto  se  ordeno  por  7 
a  jntuytu  7  conteplacion  7  seruicio  del  muy  illustre  7 
excelletissimo  seiior  don  enrriq  jnfante  de  aragon  7  de 
cecilia  .  .  .  " — Es  el  prologo  del  traductor,  en  el  que  se 
discurre  sobre  el  origen,  significaci6n  y  diferentes  clases 
de  fabulas.  La  vida  de  Esopo  comienza  en  el  fol.  Ill, 
lin.  11  "En  las  partes  de  frigia.  .  ."  Va  ilustrada, 
como  las  fabulas,  con  multitud  de  grabados,  y  termina  al 
fol.  XXVv,  donde  empieza  el  prefacio  y  prdlogo  del  Ier  libro. 
Sigue  el  texto  de  los  4  libros,  las  extravagantes  antiguas 
y  las  de  la  traslacion  nueva  de  Remicio  que  no  se  escontraban 
en  los  4  libros  ditados  de  Romulo.  Fol.  XCVIIv:  "Aqui 
comiencan  las  fabulas  de  auiano. — Fol.  CXI.  "  Fabulas 
collectas  d'alfonso  7  de  pogio  7  de  otros." — Fol.  CXXIX. 
"  Aqui  se  acaba  el  libro  de  ysopete  ystoriado  aplica  |  das 
las  fabulas  en  fin  junto  con  el  principio  a  moralidad 
prouecho  |  sa  a  la  correccion  7  avisamdeto  de  la  vida 
humana.  con  las  fabulas  de  |  remisio.  de  auiano.  doligamo. 
de  alfonso  7  pogio.  co  otras  extraua  |  gantes.  el  qual  fue 
sacado  de  latin  en  romance.  7  enplentado  en  la  |  muy 
noble  7  leal  cibdad  de  caragoca  por  Johan  hurus.  alaman 
de  |  costancia  en  el  ano  del  sefior  de  mill  cccclxxxix." — 
Tabla  y  registro. — Retrato  de  Alejandro  Magno. — £ch.  en 
b? 

Por  las  palabras  copiadas  del  prologo  se  ve  que  no 
estaba  en  lo  cierto  Clemencin  {Elogio  pag.  459),  nl  (sic) 
otros  muchos  autores  al  suponer  traductor  de  esta  obra 
al  Infante  D.  Enrique  de  Aragon.  Se  citan  otras  dos 
ediciones  incunables  de  este  libro,  la  de  Tolosa  de  1489,  y  la 
de  Burgos  de  1496:  la  presente  es  de  las  mas  raras  y  desco- 
nocidas.— Mendez,  66,  137  y  378. 
aa.  Reinhold  Gottschick,  Boner  und  seine  lateinischen  Vorlagen. 
Charlottenburg :  Buchdruckerei  "  Gutenberg,"  Berliner  Strasse 
102,    1901.     4to,  39  pp.     Charlottenburg  Program. 


300  KEIDEL  [20 

The  early  history  of  Dutch  fable  literature  has  never 
been  carefully  investigated,  and  much  work  still  remains 
to  be  done  in  this  field,  especially  in  connection  with  the 
origin  and  early  development  of  the  Animal  Epic. 

English  fable  literature  prior  to  the  time  of  Caxton  is 
involved  in  wellnigh  unfathomable  mystery,  although  it 
evidently  must  have  had  a  history  extending  over  at  least 
four  centuries.  The  superimposed  French  influence  due  to 
the  Norman  Conquest  no  doubt  aided  largely  in  suppressing 
literary  treatment  of  the  fable  during  its  sway,  and  thus 
brought  about  an  almost  total  blank  in  English  texts  be- 
longing to  this  field.23 

6.  Gustav  Ehrismann,  Der  Rentier  von  Hugo  von  Trimberg, 
herausgegeben  von  — .  Tubingen:  gedruckt  fur  den  Lit- 
terarischen  Verein  in  Stuttgart,  1908-1909.  3  vols.  8vo, 
iv,  396;  iv,  315;  rv  and  317  pp.  (Bibliothek  des  Litterar- 
ischen  Vereins  in  Stuttgart,  247,  248  and  252.)  This  work 
contains  numerous  stray  fables. 

c.  Gustav  Rosenhagen,  Kleinere  Mittelhochdeutsche  Erzahlungen, 

Fabeln  und  Lehrgedichte.     III.  Die  Heidelberger  Handschrift 

cod.  Pal.  germ.  341,  herausgegeben  von  .     Berlin:  Weid- 

mannsche  Buchhandlung,  1909.  8vo,  iv,  xilii  and  252  pp. 
(with  two  facsimiles).  (Deutsche  Texte  des  Mittelalters, 
Bd.  xvii).     Cf.  also  Bd.  iv   (1904)  and  Bd.  xiv  (1908). 

d.  Ency.  Brit.,  xith  Ed.,  Vol.  iv,  p.  203 :  Ulrich  Boner. 

23  On  the  subject  of  English  and  Scotch  fable  literature  in  the 
Middle  Ages  the  following  recent  publications  may  be  consulted 
with  profit: 

a.  G.  Gregory  Smith,  The  Poems  of  Robert  Henrysoun,  edited 
by  — ,  Vol.  ii.  [Fables].  Edinburgh  and  London:  printed 
for  the  Society  by  William  Blackwood  and  Sons,  1906. 
8vo,  xxii  and  327  pp.  (with  four  facsimiles).  (Scottish 
Text  Society,  55 ) . 

6.  Wm.  H.  Hulme,  A  Valuable  Middle  English  Manuscript,  in 
MPhi.,  Vol.  iv  (1906),  pp.  67-73.  This  manuscript  probably 
contains  stray  English  fables  hitherto  unknown  to  scholars. 

c.  Henry  Seidel  Canby,  The  English  Fabliau,  in  PMLA.,  Vol.  xxi 
(1906),  pp.  200-214  (discusses  relation  between  fabliau  and 
fable). 


21]  MEDIEVAL   FABLE   LITERATURE  301 

Many  collections  of  Exempla  contain  a  number  of  iEsopie 
fables  among  their  multitudinous  stories,  but  our  ideas 
concerning  the  origin  and  spread  of  these  fables  are  still 
extremely  hazy.  This  statement  is  corroborated  by  the  fact 
that  special  studies  of  individual  fables  commonly  find  here 
the  most  difficult  portion  of  the  whole  Mediaeval  field.  Hence 
a  host  of  problems  present  themselves  in  this  connection.24 

d.  Max  Plessow,  Geschichte  der  Fabeldichtung  in  England  bis 
zu  John  Gay  (1726),  etc.  Berlin:  Mayer  und  Mliller,  1906. 
8vo,  clii  and  392  pp.  (Palcestra:  Untersuchungen  und 
Texte  aus  der  Deutschen  und  Englischen  Philologie,  (lii). 

e  London  Athenwum,  Nov.  3,  1906,  pp.  546-547  (describes  fac- 
similes of  Lydgate's  fables  published  by  Caxton),  and  p. 
550  (describes  manuscript  recently  discovered  by  William 
H.  Hulme). 

f.  Philip  Harry,  Eeview  of  Max  Plessow,  op.  cit.,  in  MLN.,  Vol. 

xxii  (1907),  pp.  157-158. 

g.  Eleanor     Prescott     Hammond,     Chaucer:     A     Bibliographical 

Manual.     New  York:    The  Macmillan   Company,    1908.     8vo, 
x  and  579  pp.     See  p.  84,  etc.,  on  Chaucer's  use  of  ^Esopic 
fables.     P.    105   Miss    Hammond    states    that   Chaucer   cites 
the  "  Storial  Mirrour."     Query :   Did  Chaucer  use  Jehan  de 
Vignay's    Mirouer   Historial,   and   derive   his   fables   thence? 
Cf.    Dr.    Snavely's   article   below. 
h.     G.  H.  McKnight,  The  Middle  English  Vox  and  Wolf,  in  PMLA., 
Vol.   xxm    (1908),   pp.  497-509.     He  gives   a  list  of   stray 
fables   in  early  English   literature. 
i.     Ency.   Brit.,   xith   Ed.,   Vol.    xni,    p.    302:    Robert  Henryson, 
by  G.  G(regory)   S(mith),  and  Vol.  xvn,  pp.  156-157:  John 
Lydgate,  by  F(rederick)   J(ohn)    S(nell). 
M   a.    Charles  H.  Haskins,  The  University  of  Paris  in  the  Sermons 
of  the  Thirteenth  Century,  in  AHR.,  Vol.  X   (1904-1905),  pp. 
1-27.     This  article  refers  to  many  compilers  and  manuscripts 
of   such    collections. 
6.     A.    G.    Little,    Liber    Exemplorum    ad    Usum    Praedicantium 
Saeculo   xiii   compositus   a   quodam   Fratre   Minore   Anglico 
de    Provincia    Hiberniae,    secundum    codicem    Dunelmensem 

editus  per  .     Aberdoniae:    typis  academicis,   1908.     8vo, 

xxx   and    178    pp.     (British   Society   of   Franciscan   Studies, 
Vol.  I). 


302  KEIDEL  [22 

A  number  of  stray  fables  occur  in  the  lives  of  iEsop 
current  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  history  of  these  lives 
is  oftentimes  at  variance  with  that  of  the  collections  of 
fables  which  they  are  wont  to  accompany  in  the  manuscripts 
and  early  editions.  The  biographies  of  ^Esop  had  also  an 
independent  existence  in  the  period  referred  to  above,  and 
this  fact  has  tended  to  add  to  the  complications  of  the 
situation.  The  many  problems  connected  with  this  special 
field  have  scarcely  been  touched  upon  by  modern  investigators. 

The  popular  writers  of  the  period  occasionally  introduce 
fables  into  their  works,  but  more  often  they  merely  insert 
a  brief  allusion,  with  the  assumption  that  the  story  is 
well-known  to  their  auditors  or  readers.  It  would  be  an 
interesting  undertaking  to  collect  a  large  number  of  these 
allusions  and  then  endeavor  to  determine  whether  their  source 
is  to  be  sought  in  the  fable  collections  current  in  their 
time,  or  (what  is  more  likely)  in  oral  tradition  existing 
side  by  side  with  them.25 

Mediaeval  works  of  art  sometimes  portray  the  scenes  of 
well-known  fables,  but  this  subject  has  hitherto  been  barely 
touched  upon  by  modern  scholars,  although  it  is  probable 
that  a  thorough  investigation  would  bring  to  light  many 
interesting  facts.  It  seems  that  the  source  in  many  cases 
of  the  artist's  inspiration  was  oral  rather  than  literary 
tradition.  Some  attention  has  been  paid  in  this  connection 
to  the  Bayeux  Tapestry,  but  fable  scenes  are  also  known  to 
exist  on  the  Prefecture  building  at  Bourges,  the  Church  of 
S.  Pietro  at  Spoleto,  and  in  various  other  places.26 

"a.     G[aston]     P[aris],    Une    Fable    a    Retrouver,    in    Ro.,    Vol. 
xxxi    (1902),  pp.   100-103. 

b.  E.  S.  Sheldon,  The  Fable  Referred  to  in  Aliscans,  in  PMLA., 

Vol.  xvni    (1903),  pp.   335-340. 

c.  Cf.  Dr.  Buffum's  article  above,  p.  145. 

M  For  notes  on  the  history  of  the  Steinhowel  woodcuts  see 
Alfred  W.  Pollard,  Old  Picture  Books,  with  other  Essays  on  Bookish 
Subjects.  London:  Methuen  and  Co.,  36  Essex  Street,  W.  C, 
1902.     8vo,  viii  and  282  pp.     See  p.  85. 


23]  MEDIAEVAL    FABLE    LITERATURE  303 

Recapitulation 

From  the  brief  survey  just  given  it  would  appear  that  the 
unsolved  problems  in  the  history  of  Mediaeval  fable  literature 
are  of  several  distinct  categories,  which  may  be  summarized 
as  follows: 

a.  The  question  of  the  origins  of  literary  species  is  always 
largely  a  matter  of  speculation,  and  fable  literature  in  the 
Middle  Ages  is  a  case  very  much  in  point.  Many  currents 
of  popular  and  literary  tradition  united  in  the  Dark  Ages, 
or  shortly  afterward,  to  form  the  mass  of  fable  material 
which  was  extant  in  the  later  Mediaeval  period. 

b.  Bibliographical  information  concerning  the  whole  mass 
of  extant  material  in  this  field  is  still  in  a  rather  rudimentary 
state,  and  a  great  deal  of  such  work  yet  remains  to  be  done 
on  the  sources  as  a  foundation  for  other  investigations.27 

c.  The  problems  of  the  interrelations  of  the  many  texts 
contained  in  manuscripts  and  early  editions  furnish  great 
opportunities  for  a  thorough  sifting  of  the  mass  of  available 
material  of  various  kinds. 

d.  Stray  fables,  taken  by  themselves,  offer  many  kinds  of 
problems,  which  are  far  more  difficult  of  solution  than  those 
presented  by  fable  collections;  and  yet  almost  nothing  has 
been  done  by  scholars  towards  their  solution. 

Thus  taking  the  field  of  Mediaeval  Fable  Literature  all  in 
all  there  is  abundant  opportunity  for  serious  work  in  many 
directions. 

"  Cf.  Catalogue  General  des  Livres  Imprimis  de  la  Bibliothdque 
Nationale:  Auteurs.  Tome  I.  Paris:  Imprimerie  Nationale, 
1897.  8vo,  iv,  lxxxii  and  565  pp.  (Ministere  de  l'lnstruction 
publique  et  des  Beaux-Arts ) .  P.  302,  col.  2 :  ^Esopus — 
Voir  Esope.  As  Vol.  xlii  was  published  in  1910  and  included 
books  down  to  Du,  it  is  probable  that  the  article  Esope 
will  appear  in  1912,  in  Vol.  xlvi.  As  this  library  is  the 
largest  in  the  world,  the  article  in  question  should  contain 
an  important  bibliographical  contribution  to  the  subject. 


THE  ORIGIN  AND  GREEK  VERSIONS  OF   THE 
STRANGE-FEATHERS  FABLE ' 


Herbert   D.   Austin 


I.    Early  Forms  op  the  Fable 

Phaedrus'  well-known  story  [i,  3]  2  of  the  Daw  who  decked 
himself  out  in  Peacock  feathers  has  no  exact  analogue  in  the 
Greek  "  Aesop."  To  begin  with,  the  Peacock  plays  a  part  in 
only  two  fables  of  the  Prose- Aesop  [Halm,3  397  and  397b; 
398]  ;  and  in  both  cases  he  is  the  character  held  up  to  scorn — 
by  the  Daw  himself  in  fable  398 !  * 

But  the  Daw,  in  addition  to  this  appearance  on  the  stage, 
is  the  hero — or,  rather,  the  butt — of  seven  fables  in  the 
Prose- Aesop  [H.  8,  199,  200,  200b,  201,  201b,  202].  It  is 
among  these  that  the  search  must  be  made;  and  any  hesi- 
tancy in  accepting  the  koAoios  as  the  equivalent  of  Phaedrus' 
graculus  ("  gragulus ")  which  might  be  caused  by  the  con- 
tinual inaccuracies  of  Latin  writers  regarding  the  crow-kind 
is  dispelled  by  the  fact  that  only  in  this  fable  does  Phaedrus 

1  My  thanks  are  due  to  Professor  Paul  Shorey  of  the  University  of  Chi- 
cago and  to  Professor  C.  W.  E.  Miller  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University 
for  valuable  suggestions  as  to  certain  details  of  this  paper. 

2  Hervieux  :  Les  Fabulistes  latins,  Paris,  1894,  Vol.  n. 

3  Fabulae  Aesopicae  colleetae.    Lipsiae  (Teubner). 

4  These  two  fables,  moreover,  are  not  of  the  ancient  stock  ;  they  come 
down  to  us  through  the  Codex  Casinensis  group  of  mss.  which  trace  back 
to  the  Rhetoricians  of  the  ii-iv  centuries,  and  not  through  the  Accursian 
group  from  the  hypothetical  "Liber  Vulgaris."  v.  Hausrath  :  Unter- 
suchungen  zur  Ueberlieferung  der  Aesopischen  Fabeln,  in  Jahrb.  f.  CI. 
Phil.,  Supp.,  Vol.  xxi,  p.  247  sqq. ;  and  his  article  Fabel,  in  Pauly-Wis- 
sowa,  Real-Encyc. 

1]  305 

19 


306  AUSTIN  [2 

use  graculus — as  against  three  times  each  for  corvus  [i  13, 
in  18,  App.  23]  and  for  comix  [n  6,  in  18,  App.  26].  And 
we  find  that  not  less  than  three  separate  types  [H.  201b; 
201;  200  and  200b]  present  striking  analogies.  In  fable 
201b  the  Daw  whitens  himself  and  enters  a  dove-cot,  in  the 
hope  of  sharing  in  the  bountiful  sustenance  provided  for  the 
doves.  Betrayed  by  his  voice  he  is  driven  out;  he  returns  to 
the  daws,  but  they  fail  to  recognize  him  and  refuse  to  receive 
him. 

Fable  201  does  not  treat  of  wilful  masquerading,  yet  it  is 
more  to  our  purpose  in  that  the  vanity  of  the  Daw  is  the 
motive  of  his  action : 5  a  Daw  of  much  more  than  average 
size  despised  his  fellows  and  attempted  to  associate  with  the 
crows  ( Kopatces )  ;  but  they  expelled  him  ignominiously. 
And  when  he  tried  to  go  back  to  his  former  companions,  the 
angered  daws  would  have  none  of  him. 

The  third  type  [H.  200  and  200b]  combines  with  the 
motive  of  vanity  the  modus  of  wilful  masquerading — this 
time  in  the  feathers  of  many  different  birds;  but  omits  all 
reference  to  a  crestfallen  return  to  his  own  people  or  their 
opinion  as  to  his  actions.  H.  200  is  by  Aphthonius  [fab. 
31],  and  H.  200b  [slight  variations  in  Furia  78  6]  is  from  the 
non-Accursian  division  of  the  Prose-Aesop.  But  the  ac- 
counts are  essentially  one;  and  they  bear  the  closest  kinship 
to  Babrius'  fable  72 :  there  is  a  beauty-contest  for  the  birds, 
Zeus  is  the  judge,  the  Daw  adorns  himself  with  the  feathers 
of  various  birds,  his  trick  is  discovered,  and  the  birds  strip 
him  by  each  pulling  out  the  feather  which  he  recognizes  as 
his  own.  This  assembly  of  various  birds,  and  the  use  of 
divers  feathers,  are  the  leading  features  also  of  a  group  of 
medieval  Latin  and  Bomance  versions  of  a  non-Phedrine  type 
which  includes  Jacques  de  Vitry    [ccxlix],   Odo  of   Sher- 

5  Max  Fuchs  :   Die  Fabel  von  der  Krdhe,  die  sich  mil  fremden  Federn 
8chmuckt:  Berlin  diss.,  1886  ;  pp.  6,  20. 

6F.  de  Furia  :  Fabulae  Aesopicae,  Lipsiae,  1810. 


3]  STRANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  307 

rington  [vi,]  John  of  Sheppey  [vin],  the  Dialogus  Creatu- 
rarum  [54],  Bromiard  [Pt.  I,  p.  23,  col.  2],  and  versions  in 
Italian  and  French  collections.  These  regularly  substitute  the 
Eagle  in  place  of  Zeus;  and  without  exception  the  bird  is 
some  one  of  the  larger  kinds:  corvus,  comix  (or  cornicula. 
John  of  Sheppey  uses  both  cornicula  and  comix  to  designate 
the  same  bird) — never  a  Daw.  This  unanimous  divergence 
from  the  Greek  authority  in  the  very  form  of  the  fable 
which  is  most  unmistakably  "Greek  "  in  all  its  main  outlines, 
and  where  all  the  late  as  well  as  the  early  Greek  versions 
agree  in  naming  the  bird  a  Daw,  leads  me  to  suspect 
some  relationship  to  Horace's  epitome  of  the  Greek  fable 
[Epistles  i  3,  18-20]  where  he  calls  the  bird  cornicula.  Nine 
of  the  thirteen  medieval  Latin  or  Eomance  versions  with 
which  I  am  acquainted  use  comix  (Odo;  Dial.  Great. — and 
John  of  Sheppey;  see  above),  or  its  diminutive  cornicula 
as  does  Horace  (Jacques  de  Vitry,  John  of  Sheppey),  or  the 
Romance  equivalents  of  the  latter:  comeille  (Roquefort, 
fabulae  ineditae  99) ;  comiglia  (sonnet  attributed  to  Chiaro 
Davanzati7),  comacchia  (ballad  attributed  to  Dante8); 
cornacla  (Venetian  dialect,  early  xiv  century9);  chornachia 
(Isopo  Riccardiano  10) . 

The  Greek  fable  of  the  Daw  who  whitened  himself  and 
went  among  the  Doves  had  an  apparently  uneventful  history. 
The  single  extant  version  is  so  nearly  identical  in  the  Accur- 
sian  "  and  in  the  Augustan  12  groups  of  mss.  that  it  evidently 
came  down  to  us  in  its  present  form  from  the  Rhetoricians. 

The  fable  of  the  unusually  large  Daw  who  tried  to  asso- 
ciate with  the  Crows  would  have  a  similar  literary  history, 

7PMLA.,  xni,  205. 

8Fraticelli :  Canzoniere  di  D.  A.,  I,  274. 

•Pub.  in  Ro.,  xm,  47.  10PMLA.,  xx.,  423. 

nCorai,  yiddwv  klauwduv  ffvpayuy^,  Paris,  1810,  fable  101. 

"Sternbach,  Fabvlarum  Aesopiarum  sylloge,  Cracoviae,  1894,  cxxi. 


308  AUSTIN  [4 

if  Photius  (ix  century)  had  not  quoted  it  in  his  lexicon  13 
[s.  v.  'Es  Ko/aaxas].  First  he  explains  the  phrase  by  a 
fantastic  story  about  an  Aeolian  penal  colony  called  Kdpa*es. 
This  is  followed  by  a  second  explanation  on  the  authority  of 
"  Some  say  " ;  then  Aristotle  is  quoted ;  Aesop  is  next  adduced, 
and  the  fable  is  given,  with  the  interesting  addition  that 
when  the  crestfallen  Daw  returned  to  his  own  kind  they 
not  only  beat  him  but  also  hurled  at  him  the  imprecation 
$evy'  cs  KopaKas.  Lastly  Aristides'  view  as  to  the  origin  of 
the  phrase  is  given.  It  is  evident  that  Photius  is  comparing 
Aesop's  explanation  of  a  current  phrase  with  the  explanations 
offered  by  other  writers.  Fuchs  seems  to  have  misunderstood 
this,  for,  in  his  brief  mention  of  Photius — and  of  Suidas, 
8.  v.  'Es  KopaKa<i,u  who  is  textually  the  same,  in  large  part — 
in  connection  with  this  fable,  he  says : 15  "  Beide  berichten 
das  hieraus  abgeleitete  Sprichwort:  <*>«5y'  cs  xopaxas,  das 
die  Dohlen  ihrer  zuriickgewiesenen  Genossin  zuriefen  "  (my 
italics) .  "  The  crows  "  as  a  synonym  for  woe  and  destruction 
was  surely  as  old  as,  and  probably  was  much  older  than, 
the  "  Aesopic  period " ;  and  the  real  explanation  of  the  ex- 
pression— as  is  more  clearly  seen  in  the  Latin  equivalent 
pasce  corvos — is  simply  this:  to  be  food  for  crows  was  to 
remain  unburied,  the  non  plus  ultra  of  damnation  to  the 
ancients.  The  phrase  was  certainly  not  derived  from  the 
fable,  and  there  is  no  good  reason  even  for  believing  that 
it  ever  had  anything  to  do  with,  or  any  part  in,  the  fable. 
Leaving  therefore  a  shadow  of  suspicion  on  Photius,  we 
shall  turn  to  the  third  Greek  form  of  the  fable — the  only 
one  in  which  strange  feathers  figure.  This  entirely  eclipsed 
the  other  two  in  popularity.     It  is  much  more  picturesque 

18 Photii  Patriarchae  Lexicon,  rec.  S.  A.  Naber,  Leidae,  1864,  vol.  prius, 
p.  215. 

14  Lexicon,   ed.   G.    Bernhardy,    Halis,    1853.     Tom.    i.    Part,   n,   col. 
550  sq. 

15  Op.  cit.,  p.  8. 


5]  STRANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  309 

and  animated  and  works  up  more  dramatically  to  a  single 
climax.  Babrius  [fab.  72]  16  is  our  earliest  extended  version ; 
and  for  that  reason  and  also  because  his  poetical  account 
so  well  realizes  the  artistic  possibilities  of  this  form  of  the 
fable,  it  is  worth  while  to  translate  it  here  in  its  entirety: 
"  Iris,  gleaming  herald  of  the  skies,  once  announced  to 
the  winged  creatures  that  a  contest  of  beauty  would  be  held 
in  the  home  of  the  gods;  quickly  all  gave  heed,  and  all 
desired  the  divine  gifts.  From  a  rock  that  a  goat  could 
scarcely  scale  there  trickled  a  spring,  and  the  pool  stood 
6ummer-like  and  clear;  thither  came  all  the  race  of  birds, 
and  washed  their  faces  and  their  legs,  and  shook  their 
feathers,  and  combed  their  locks.  And  to  that  spring  came 
also  the  aged  Daw — son  of  his  mother  [? — ko/jwvt;?  vldW], 
and  fitting  to  his  moistened  shoulders  a  feather  from  this 
bird  and  from  that,  put  on  his  single  self  the  variegated 
hues  of  all;  then  swooped  before  the  gods,  outclassing  the 
eagle.  Zeus  marvelled,  and  was  granting  him  the  victory; 
but  the  Swallow,  like  a  true  Athenian,-  convicted  him 
him  by  pulling  out  her  feather  before  the  others.  He  said 
to  her :  '  Dont  tell  on  me.'  But  then  the  Turtle-dove  and 
the  Thrush  dismantled  him,  and  the  Jay  and  the  crested  Lark 
that  plays  about  the  tombs,  and  the  Hawk  that  lies  in  wait 
for  weaker  birds,  and  all  the  rest  beside.  And  the  Daw  was 
recognized."  1T 

This  form  of  the  fable — which  I  shall  henceforth  refer 
to  as  the  "  Many-Bird  "  form — is  absent  from  the  Accursian 
group  of  mss.  of  the  Prose- Aesop;  and  this  fact,  together 
with  its  evident  fitness  for  and  popularity  with  the  poets  and 
rhetoricians,  leads  me  to  judge  that  it  was  not  in  the 
original    corpus   of   Aesopica,   but   belongs   entirely   to   the 

16Crusius:  Babrii  Fabulae  Aesopeae,  Lipsiae,  1897. 

"The  (obvious)  moral  appended  is  probably  not  by  Babrius.  v.  Cru- 
sius :  ed.  eit.,  p.  64n. ;  also  E.  Hohmann :  De  indole  atque  auctoritate 
epimylhiorwn  babrianorum  (Dissertation),  Regimonti,  1907,  pp.  99  and 
101. 


310  AUSTIN  [6 

"learned  tradition."  Fortunately  we  are  not  left  wholly 
without  evidence  as  to  its  existence  before  Babrius'  time. 
Phaedrus'  Gragulus  et  Pavo  antedates  Babrius  perhaps  a 
century  and  a  half 18 ;  but  we  shall  see  that  the  analogies 
between  these  two  versions  result  from  indirect  relationship 
rather  than  direct  descent.19  Horace's  reference  is  much 
more  enlightening;  he  is  giving  warning  to  a  plagiarist: 
"lest,  if  perchance  the  flock  of  birds  come  to  claim  their 
feathers,  the  Cornicula  become  a  laughing-stock  when  stripped 
of  his  stolen  colors."  This  is  clearly  the  Many-Bird  form ; 
but  the  use  of  cornicula  is  somewhat  disconcerting.  The 
Latin  writers  seem  to  have  been  very  inexact  in  their 
ideas  about  the  crow-kind.  One  almost  comes  to  believe  that 
it  was  by  mere  chance  that  Phaedrus  hit  on  the  real  equiva- 
lent for  koXoios  in  his  version.  This  much  may  be  said, 
however,  of  Horace's  cornicula:  it  is  a  <x7ra£  Aeyo/xevov  in 
Classic  Latin  and  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  it  was  a 
popular,  or  Folk-Latin,  word — both  because  it  is  a  diminutive 
of  a  word  (cornix)  flourishing  by  its  side  in  the  literary 
speech;  and  also  because  it  is  the  source  of  the  common 
Komance  words  which,  in  French  (corneille)  and  Italian 
(0.  It.  corniglia)  at  least,  mean  both  "crow"  and  "daw" 
in  the  mouths  of  the  unlettered.  Horace  therefore  may  have 
chosen  the  word,  instead  of  graculus,  as  having  a  certain 
familiar  and  passably  insulting  tone.  Another  interesting 
possibility  is  that  Horace  was  following  a  "  popular  "  form  of 
our  fable  which  contained  a  Crow  instead  of  a  Daw.  That 
the  medieval  Latin-Eomance  non-Phedrine  group  to  which 
I  have  referred  point  to  such  a  source  I  shall  show  later. 
Tertullian,  about  210  A.  D.,  uses  the  correct  equivalent 

18  The  vexed  question  of  Babrius'  date  I  have  no  thought  of  arguing, 
but  have  tentatively  accepted  175  A.  D.  The  exact  date  is  not  indispensable 
for  the  purposes  of  this  study. 

11  It  seems,  by  the  way,  that  Babrius  was  unacquainted  with  his  prede- 
cessor on  the  Latin  side ;  for  in  his  Preface  he  speaks  as  if  he  were  the 
first  to  put  fables  into  verse. 


7]  STRANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  311 

graculus  in  his  Liber  adversus  Valentinianos,  chapter  xn:20 
ridiculing  the  hodge-podge  system  of  theology  and  doctrine 
of  the  Valentinian  heretics  he  calls  their  conception  of  a 
sort  of  composite- Jesus  an  "  Aesop's  Daw "  (graculum 
Aesopi). 

But  it  is  on  the  Greek  side  that  we  get  the  most  unequivocal 
evidence  as  to  the  pre-Babrian  form  of  our  fable.  Most 
significant  of  all,  because  earliest,  is  a  precious  allusion  by 
the  Epicurean  poet  and  philosopher  Philodemus  which  prob- 
ably antedates  Horace's  third  Epistle  (20  B.  C.)  by  a 
generation.21  The  introductory  words  of  the  papyrus  frag- 
ment are  illegible,  but  what  follows  is  clear  enough:  "..•". 
taking  from  the  arts  of  poetry  and  of  rhetoric  and  from 
geometry  and  astrology  and  music,  he  (or  it)  has  bedecked 
himself  (or  itself)  with  the  feathers  of  others  as  did  the 
Daw."  22  The  Many-Bird  form  of  the  fable  is  unmistakably 
indicated  heTe. 

No  other  clear  references  which  certainly  antedate  Babrius 
can  be  cited ; 23  but  perhaps  contemporary  with  him  are  two 
allusions  by  Lucian :  in  the  Apologia  pro  mercede  conductis,  §4 
[i,  p.  711  E.]  he  represents  his  friend  Sabinus  as  reproaching 
him  for  acting  contrary  to  the  advice  given  in  the  De  mercede 
conductis,  remarking  that  some  people  would  not  regard  him 
as  the  author  of  that  work  at  all  but  as  simply  parading 
in  borrowed  plumage,  as  was  the  Daw  (  .  .  .  tov  koXoiov 
dXAorpiois  7TTe/3ois  aydkXea-Oai.) .  The  reference  in  the  Pseu- 
dologista,  §5  [hi,  p.  167  R.]  is  rendered  especially  interesting 
by  the  setting,  which  would  seem  to  indicate  that  Lucian 
knew  a  version  of  the  Many-Bird  fable  in  which  the  cause 

20  Migne,  Patrol,  s.  lat. ,  vol.  II,  col.  598  sq. 

"Fuchs,  op.  cit.,  p.  10  sq.,  states  that  Horace's  reference  is  the  earliest 
©f  any  length. 

n  Philodemi  volumina  rheiorica,  ed.  Sudhaus,  Lipsiae,  1892,  1896,  vol. 
ii,  p.  101,  fr.  iv  ;  cf.  p.  68. 

23  On  the  bare  title,  Ko\ot6j,  attributed  to  Diogenes  the  Cynic,  see 
Crusius,  ed.  cit.,  p.  164,  note  to  fable  180. 


312  AUSTIN  [8 

of  the  birds'  meeting  was  some  sort  of  contest  in  which  each 
would  try  to  outdo  the  others.  The  passage  runs  as  follows : 
"  A  certain  person,  who  pretends  to  be  -a  Sophist,  once  came 
to  Olympia  to  give  an  oration  which  he  had  composed  .  .  . 
And  that  oration  was  like  Aesop's  Daw,  a  promiscuous  col- 
lection (o-vfi<f>opr)T6<i)  of  various  feathers  from  others  (e/c 
nroLKiXoiv  aWorploov  irTep&v)  .  .  .  And  there  was  great 
laughter  among  the  hearers  when  they  recognized  the  various 
parts." 

This  completes  our  list  of  references  up  to  Babrius'  time. 
But  we  should  err  in  an  attempt  to  reconstruct  the  pre- 
Babrian  Many-Bird  form  on  the  basis  of  these  data  only; 
for  a  glance  at  the  appended  Table  of  Motifs  shows  two 
striking  differences  between  Babrius'  version  24  and  those  of 
his  successors,  namely:  Babrius'  is  the  only  version  which 
gives  Iris  as  the  herald  of  the  contest,  and  the  only  one 
which  names  the  Swallow  (^e\i8au>)  as  the  bird  which  first 
discovered  the  Daw's  trick  and  pulled  out  her  own  feather. 
The  two  versions  which  follow  Babrius  in  point  of  time, 
Aphthonius  [fable  31  =  Halm  200]  (cir.  315  A.  D.)  and 
Libanius  [Progymnasmata,  3]  25  (cir.  350  A.  D.),  both  have 
Hermes  as  the  messenger  of  Zeus  to  the  birds ;  while  the  other 
versions  make  no  mention  of  a  messenger.  It  might  seem 
at  first  sight  that  Aphthonius  made  the  change  from  Babrius, 
and  that  Libanius  simply  followed  the  former.  This  may  be 
true  for  this  single  point ;  but  we  find  that  in  numerous  other 
details  Libanius  differs  from  Aphthonius,  besides  having  in 
his  much  fuller  account  many  points  not  found  in  Aphthonius 
at  all.  Now  most  of  these  variations  from  Aphthonius  have 
analogues  in  Babrius;  and  we  might  conclude  that  Libanius 
followed   Aphthonius  as   far  as  the  latter  went  and   then 

24  Along  with  Babrius  I  class  also  the  Bodleian  Paraphrase  and  Ignatius 
Diaconus,  both  of  which  are  merely  reworkings  of  Babrius. 

2iLibanii  Sophistae  Orationes  ci  Declamationes,  ed.  Beiske,  Altenburg, 
1797,  Vol.  iv,  p.  854  sq 


9]  STRANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  313 

filled  out  with  Babrius.  But  even  this  hypothesis  will  not 
stand  the  test ;  first  because  Libanius  follows  Babrius  in  points 
where  the  latter  is  contradictory  to  Aphthonius ;  and  secondly, 
and  still  more  significantly,  because  Libanius  has  points 
which  first  appear  in  his  version  but  are  perpetuated  in 
succeeding  writers,  and  especially  in  the  Prose-Aesop  of  the 
Augustan  and  Casinensis  groups  of  mss.  ;  and  these  certainly 
are  dependent  on  the  Ehetorical  group  to  which  Libanius 
belongs,  but  just  as  certainly  did  not  draw  on  Libanius  him- 
self who  was  a  rhetorician  and  not  a  fabulist  and  was  not  a 
recognized  authority  in  fable  literature.  The  most  striking  of 
these  motifs  which  thus  seem  to  start  with  Libanius  is  the 
statement  that  the  prize  which  was  to  be  granted  for  superi- 
ority in  the  beauty  contest  was  the  kingship  over  the  other 
birds.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  only  reasonable  solution 
is:  that  in  some  variety  of  the  Many-Bird  type — 
which  it  will  be  remembered  belongs  purely  to  the  learned 
tradition — the  kingship  as  prize  was  a  well-known  motif; 
that  Aphthonius  if  he  knew  of  it  omitted  it  because  it 
seemed  to  him,  as  it  indeed  is,  a  very  unconvincing  and 
in  fact  immoral  procedure  to  choose  kings  on  the  basis  of 
looks;  and  that  Libanius  worked  with  Aphthonius,  Babrius, 
and  some  lost  text  or  texts  of  the  pre-Babrian  version  before 
him. 

Furthermore,  I  believe  that  Babrius'  account  itself  shows 
traces  of  the  kingship  idea :  all  the  birds  were  said  to  be 
anxious  to  win  the  "divine  rewards"  (dela  Scopa),  though 
it  is  not  stated  what  those  rewards  were  to  be;  and  when 
the  Daw  is  decked  out  he  rushes  in  "  surpassing  the  Eagle  " 
(aierov  /cpeio-o-cov)  and  the  astonished  Zeus  is  on  the  spot 
disposed  to  give  him  the  victory  ( vUrjv ) .  Now  why  this 
reference  to  the  Eagle?  If  it  had  been  merely  a  matter  of 
beauty,  and  some  ordinary  prize  was  to  be  won,  why  should 
it  be  by  surpassing  the  Eagle — certainly  not  a  beautiful  bird 
in  the  sense  that  beauty  is  evidently  meant  in  Babrius'  and 


314  AUSTIN  [10 

his  followers'  accounts?  The  eagle  was  recognized  in 
antiquity  as  he  is  now  as  the  king,  or  at  least  the  leader, 
of  the  birds.26 

Keeping  this  in  mind  let  us  consider  that  other  idiosyncrasy 
of  the  Babrian  version :  the  Swallow,  instead  of  the  Owl 
(Y\at)f)  which  occurs  in  all  the  non-Babrian  versions27  where 
any  particular  bird  is  mentioned  as  the  first  to  incriminate 
the  Daw.  As  this  does  not  occur  in  the  Prose-Aesop  it  may 
proceed  directly  from  Aphthonius.  But  note  this  fact:  if 
Owl  was  in  that  pre-Babrian  version  which  Babrius,  Aph- 
thonius, Libanius  and  others  seem  to  have  used  it  would  be 
in  accordance  with  a  traditional  enmity  which  existed  between 
the  owls  and  the  crow-kind  and  of  which  the  most  important 
Eastern  record  is  found  in  the  Frame  to  the  Third  Book  of 
the  Panchatantra.     Here  we  find  a  king-choosing  too. 

Whatever  weight  may  be  given  to  the  preceding,  it  is 
reasonably  certain  that  Babrius  was  using  a  version  which 
either  did  not  mention  any  messenger  from  Zeus,  or  else 
he  found  Hermes  given  and  substituted  Iris  for  purposes 
of  poetic  effect.  For  outside  of  the  fact  that  Aphthonius 
and  Libanius  have  Hermes  in  this  fable,  there  is  the  further 
fact  that  nowhere  else  in  the  whole  of  the  "  Aesopic  "  fable- 
literature — whether  anonymous  or  in  definitely  named  col- 
lections— does  Iris  appear  either  as  the  messenger  of  Zeus, 
or  otherwise;  while  Hermes  figures  in  eleven  fables28  of  the 
Prose- Aesop ;  three  times  29  definitely  as  Zeus'  messenger. 

In  a  similar  way  Babrius'  use  of  the  Swallow,  whether 
his  own  contribution  or  a  substitution  for  an  Owl  of  his 
original,  is  just  such  a  proceeding  as  we  should  expect  from 

26  Of.,  esp.,  Pindar,  Nem.  Ill,  80-2  :  .  .  tan  8'   alerbs  <i/«>j  iv  iroravoh,  \ 
6s  £\a/3e^    diij/a,    rrfkbde  fiera/iaibfievos,   8a<t>oivbv   iypav    woaiv  |  tcpaydrai  5£ 
KoKoiol  rairetvb.  vtnovrou. 

"  Aphthonius,  Libanius,  Theophylactus,  Tzetzes. 

"H.  136,  137,  138,  140,  141,  118,  205;  308,  315,  150,  152. 

29  H.  136,  137,  138. 


11]  STRANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  315 

a  poet.  For  when  he  says  that  the  Swallow  "  confuted  the 
Daw  like  the  Athenian  she  was  "  (eb?  'AOrjvairj  rjXey^ev)  he 
not  only  is  hitting  off  the  Athenian  shrewdness  and  talent  for 
litigation,  but  may  also  be  recalling  the  story  of  Philomela 
and  Procne  who  were  changed  to  nightingale  and  swallow30 
and  on  whose  Athenian  birth  and  characteristics  Babrius 
himself  lays  emphasis  in  another  of  his  fables  [preserved 
by  the  Bodleian  Paraphrase — No.  148  in  Crusius*].  And  he 
may  also  have  had  in  mind  the  passage  in  the  Odyssey 
[%  240]  where  Athena  perched  on  the  rafters  above  Odysseus' 
head  "  like  a  swallow  "  (%e\i86vL  el/ceXr] )  .31  Now  ordinarily 
the  Owl  was  associated  with  Athena  and  with  Athens; 
Athena's  epithet  yXavfcwiri1;  was  popularly  connected  with 
y\av£,32  and  Athenian  coins  bore  an  image  of  the  owl.  There- 
fore if  there  was  any  especial  bird  mentioned  in  Babrius' 
original  it  was  probably  the  <y\avf;  ;  and  if  not,  then  Aph- 
thonius  changed  Babrius'  yekthwv  to  <y\avi;  with  the  idea 
of  making  a  necessary  correction — just  possibly,  too,  through 
the  influence  of  that  Eastern  tradition  which  I  have  mentioned 
which  made  the  owls  and  the  crow-kind  bitter  enemies.33 

Reasoning,  therefore,  on  the  basis  of  all  the  versions  con- 
sidered above,  I  feel  justified  in  reconstructing  the  main 
outlines  of  the  pre-Babrian  version  in  the  following  manner: 
(the  self-evident  basal  framework  is  left  in  ordinary  type; 
the  reconstructed  portions  are  in  italics,  with  all  the  features 
which  I  have  discussed  above  as  admitting  of  reasonable 
doubt  enclosed  in  square  brackets). 

Zeus   [through  Hermes~\   announced  to  all  the  birds  that 

30  Respectively,  in  the  Latin  tradition  ;  inversely  in  the  Greek. 

"There  are  many  other  reminiscences  of  Homer  in  Babrius  (e.  g.  the 
collocation  of  ko\ou>1  and  \j/apes  in  fab.  33,  cf.  II  583,  P  755. )  including 
probably  our  Iris  :  with  Babrius'  irop<pvprj  Ktjpv^  cf.  P  547  iroptpvpfyv    Ipiv. 

32  Both  are  really  from  the  root  y\avK  "gleaming." 

33  Aphthonius'  home  was  Asia  Minor,  and  he  may  easily  have  known 
much  of  Eastern  lore. 


316  AUSTIN  [12 

a  contest  of  beauty  was  to  be  held;  the  prize  was  to  be  the 
kingship.  The  birds  washed  in  various  streams,  etc.;  the 
Daw  (koXoios)  took  of  the  other  birds'  feathers  (aWorpia 
irrepd  )  which  he  found  there  and  bedecked  himself  (  eavrbv 
i/coapvo-e)  and  betook  himself  to  the  contest  in  variegated 
hues  (ttoikiXov).  But  [the  Owl  first,  and  then]  the  [other] 
birds  recognized  their  own  feathers,  and  stripped  him  of  them ; 
and  he  became  a  laughing-stock. 

As  I  have  before  remarked,  the  idea  of  having  the  king- 
ship as  a  prize  for  beauty  is  unnatural.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  Zeus'  holding  a  beauty-show.  But  Zeus  choosing 
a  king  of  birds  would  harmonize  well  enough  with  Aesopic 
tradition,  for  example  in  the  fable  of  the  Frogs  who  ask 
Zeus  to  choose  a  king  for  them  [H.  76] ;  as  would  also 
an  invitation  to  the  birds  to  assemble  before  Zeus:  in  H. 
154  Zeus  bids  all  the  living  creatures  to  a  marriage  feast. 
And  on  the  other  hand,  an  assembly  of  the  birds  themselves — 
perhaps  called  by  the  Eagle — at  which  there  should  be 
rivalry  in  beauties  of  plumage,  seems  natural  enough  too; 
and  this  is  in  fact  the  form  in  which  our  fable  passed 
down  in  the  non-Phedrine  medieval  versions  in  Latin,  Italian, 
and  French.  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  therefore,  that  while 
my  reconstruction  of  the  pre-Babrian  form  may  hold  for 
Babrius'  immediate  original,  it  is  after  all  a  hybrid,  and  is 
the  result  of  an  earlier  crossing  of  two  fables:  one 
("learned")  of  Zeus  choosing  a  king  of  birds,  and  one 
("popular")  of  a  contest  of  beauty  among  the  birds. 

The  exact  relation  of  Phaedrus'  fable  to  the  Greek  is 
a  baffling  problem.  On  the  whole  it  seems  to  me  difficult 
to  improve  much  on  Fuchs'  hypothesis 34  that  "  the  basis 
of  the  version  is  represented  by  the  Greek  fable  of  the  large 
Daw  that  tries  to  identify  himself  with  the  Crows>  is  driven 

uOp.  tit.,  p.  20  sq. 


13]  STRANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  317 

out,  and  then  is  repulsed  by  his  own  people  when  he  returns. 
The  motivation  of  this  version  seemed  to  Phaedrus  too  re- 
stricted, and  perhaps  not  natural  enough;  so  he  introduced 
the  *  Strange  Feathers '  from  the  Many-Bird  version,  sub- 
stituting peacock  feathers  in  place  of  the  feathers  of  various 
birds." 

The  possibility,  however,  that  Phaedrus  found  this  combi- 
nation of  the  Greek  motifs  already  consummated  in  his  own 
Aesop-book  is  recommended  by  the  position  of  the  fable  in 
his  collection.  Gragulus  et  Pavo  is  the  third  fable  of  his 
First  Book;  and  in  this  book  we  find  that  the  Latin  fabulist, 
as  his  Preface  indicates,  sticks  closest  to  the  well-known 
Greek  Aesop.  A  comparison  shows  that  Phaedrus'  fables 
numbers  1,  2,  4,  6,  7,  8,  11,  12  and  13  follow  closely  the 
Greek  fables  as  found  in  our  Prose-Aesop,35  and  no.  5  has 
a  near  analogy ; 36  while  as  we  proceed  through  the  thirty-one 
fables  of  this  First  Book  analogies  in  the  Greek  rapidly 
become  scarcer,  and  indeed  are  almost  entirely  wanting  for 
the  latter  half.  If  so  be  that  Phaedrus  was  using  such  a 
contaminatio  of  the  two  fables,  then  his  own  contribution 
may  have  been  limited  to  the  substitution  of  the  Peacocks 
in  place  of  the  Many  Birds,  in  conformity  with  his  usual 
predilection  for  brief  and  succinct  accounts.  For  his  original 
in  such  case  would  have  been  unusually  long.  The  Many- 
Bird  one  alone,  as  we  now  possess  it,  is  among  the  longest 
of  the  Aesopic  corpus.  By  using  Peacocks  in  his  fable 
Phaedrus  could  not  only  omit  enumeration  of  the  various 
birds,  but  also  avoid  the  necessity  of  explaining  how  they 
came  to  be  assembled,  and  at  the  same  time  preserve  the  effect 
of  variegated  plumage. 

However  this  may  be,  Phaedrus'  fable  has  far  outlived  all 
the  other  forms  and  has  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  fame 
of  its  ambitious  and  mediocre  author. 


35  Respectively  :  H.  274b,  76(b\  233,  77b  47(b),  276b,  259,  128,  204b. 

36  H.  258  ;  cf.  260,  and  259. 


318  AUSTIN  [14 


II.    The  Many-Bird  Type  in  Later  Greek. 

A  reference  to  our  fable  is  found  in  Oration  xxiv  of 
Themistius  of  Paphlagonia 37  (317-cir.  390  A.  D.),  a  con- 
temporary of  Libanius.  His  use  of  the  fable  is  pointed  at 
those  whose  adornments  and  acquisitions  are  external  and  not 
of  the  spirit.  This  turn  of  the  application  is  new,  though 
pat  enough,  but  the  few  motifs  of  the  short  passage  tally 
with  both  Aphthonius  and  Libanius.  A  certain  verbal  co- 
incidence 38  makes  it  probable  that  he  was  following  the 
latter. 

St.  Gregorius  Nazianzenus,  Cappadocian,  was  only  about 
a  decade  younger  than  Themistius.  In  one  of  his  carmina 
theologica  39  this  good  Church  father  warns  vain  women  that 
they  run  the  risk  of  being  stripped  of  their  adornment  and 
rendered  ridiculous  as  was  the  Daw  of  the  fable.  The  few 
characteristics  of  this  reference  are  not  sufficient  to  place 
it  definitely  as  to  derivation. 

At  the  end  of  frag.  87  40  the  historian  Eunapius  41  (fl.  cir. 
380  A.  D.)  treats  of  magistrates  who  get  into  trouble  through 
peculation  and  are  both  punished  and  preyed  upon  by  more 
powerful  magistrates,  who  in  their  turn  are  liable  to  the  same 
fate.  It  happened  that  one  of  these  unfortunate  officials 
who  got  caught  between  the  nether  and  the  upper  millstone 
was  named  'Iepaf,  Hawk;  and  this  suggested  to  our  his- 
torian the  appropriateness  of  an  allusion  to  the  Hawk  and 
Xightingale  fable.     He  says :  "  This  man  named  Hierax  being 

37  Themistii  Orationes,  ed.  Dindorf,  Lipsiae,  1832,  p.  368. 

58  irepiT tdr/aiv,   Lib.   irepierldei. 

39 Lib.  I,  carm.  xxix,  11.  55-8 — in  Migne,  Patrol,  s.  gr.,  Vol.  xxxvn, 
col.  888. 

40  Historici  Graeci  minores,  ed.  Dindorf,  Lipsiae,  1870,  Vol.  I,  p.  270, 
1.  21  sqq. 

41 1  am  indebted  to  Dr.  D.  S.  Blondheim  for  pointing  out  to  me  this 
passage.     All  the  other  references  are  furnished  by  Crusius,  op.  cit.,  p.  63. 


15]  STRANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  319 

caught  by  the  more  powerful  one,*2  as  by  the  Eagle,  was 
[like]  the  Nightingale  of  Hesiod,  helpless  in  the  clutch  of 
the  stronger."  Here  the  author  has  twisted  the  characters 
to  his  purpose,  as  he  had  to  make  this  Heirax  the  one  to 
succumb  and  therefore  introduces  the  Eagle.  But  he  does 
not  stop  as  this  confusion;  he  goes  on  without  a  break  and 
switches  over  into  our  Strange-Feathers  fable :  "  And  the 
Eagle  himself  differed  from  the  Nightingale  in  naught,  save 
as  it  happened  to  the  Daw  of  the  fable,  [for  he  was]  stripped 
of  his  own  feathers  as  well  as  of  those  not  his  own."  Which 
must  mean  that  the  more  powerful  magistrate,  later  on, 
himself  underwent  the  fate  of  the  one  whom  he  had  oppressed 
plus  confiscation  of  his  own  goods  and  those  he  had  stolen 
from  others.  The  question  why  the  Eagle  (who  figures  in 
the  typical  form  of  neither  of  these  fables)  having  been 
grafted  on  the  first  as  hero,  led  to  a  comparison  with  the 
protagonist  of  the  second,  suggests  the  interesting  possibility 
that  Eunapius  had  in  mind  a  version  of  that  type  of  the 
Strange-Feathers  fable  which  has  been  distinguished  as  "  pop- 
ular " ;  in  which  the  beauty-contest  of  the  birds  is  presided 
over  by  the  Eagle — by  whose  orders  the  Daw  is  properly 
humbled.  If  this  be  the  case,  then  it  would  be  natural 
for  the  writer,  with  both  fables  in  his  mind,  to  introduce 
the  Eagle  as  the  avenger  in  the  first;  and  his  only  original 
contribution  would  be  the  felicitous  idea  of  making  the 
puissant  Eagle  himself  ultimately  succumb  to  the  fate  of 
the  Hawk  whom  he  had  wronged  on  the  one  hand,  and 
on  the  other  of  the  Daw  who  had  justly  fallen  under  his 
wrath. 

Our  longest  prose  version  is  from  Epist.  xxxiv  of  the 
historian  Theophylactus  Simocatta 43  (fl.  cir.  610  A.  D.). 
Here  we  have  a  new  introduction :  the  birds  were  suffering 
from  anarchy  and  petitioned  Zeus  to  give  them  a  leader; 

41  Literally  :  "  by  the  one  who  had  paid  more  "  ;  i.  e.  for  his  office. 
43 EpiatolograpM  Graeci,  ed.  Hercher,  Paris,  1873,  p.  773  sq. 


320  AUSTIN  [16 

the  contest  of  beauty  was  then  arranged.  The  general  treat- 
ment of  the  main  body  of  the  fable,  though  inflated  in 
diction,  follows  very  consistently  the  motifs  of  the  Rhetorical 
type  as  indicated  to  us  by  Aphthonius,  Libanius  and  the 
probable  pre-Babrian  version  which  I  have  reconstructed. 
The  birds'  application  to  Zeus  for  a  king,  and  their  reason 
for  doing  so,  is  at  once  suggestive  of  the  fable  of  the  Frogs 
who  ask  for  a  king  [H.  76]  ;  and  when  *we  compare  the 
Augustan  form  of  the  latter 44  with  Theophylactus'  intro- 
duction the  verbal  correspondences  are  so  striking,  in  spite 
of  the  latter's  prolixity,  that  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  doubt 
that  he  had  the  Frog-fable  before  him,  or  at  least  very  fresh 
in  his  mind.45  The  last  clause,  too,  offers  a  correspondence 
with  the  Prose- Aesop  version  of  our  Many-Bird  fable :  Theo- 
phylactus has  teal  yeyovev  av$i<;  6  tco\otb<;  koXolos  ',  H.  200b 
reads  kcu  6  Ko\oLo<i  tjv  iraXiv  koXoios.  Neither  of  these 
correspondences  can  be  traced  to  any  definitely-fathered  ver- 
sion; and  we  are  thus  led  to  the  conclusion  that  at  the 
beginning  of  the  seventh  century  there  was  a  Prose-Aesop 
collection  which  even  in  some  details  corresponded  closely  to 
those  which  we  now  have. 

The  next  five  centuries  and  more  (cir.  610-cir.  1150)  have 
left  no  datable  version  of  our  fable  except  the  tetrastich 
[no.  29]  of  Ignatius  Diaconus  46  (fl.  cir.  825  A.  D.) ;  which 
as  before  noted  is  merely  a  condensation  of  Babrius. 

From  near  the  end  of  this  half-millennium  date  our  earliest 
mss.   of  the  Prose-Aesop,  beginning  with  the  Par.   Gr.   n. 


"Sternbach,  ed.  cit.,  xliv. 

45  Aug. :  Bdrpaxoi  \virotifievoi  iirl  rfj  iavr&v  a  vap  \l  &  Tp^trjSeis 
%ire/j.\f/ap   irpbs    rbv   Ala    debpxvoi  f3a<ri\4a  ai/Tois    tt  a  pac  \e^v- 

Theoph. :  '  A0/ko*t6  Tore  irpbs  rbv  A  I  a  ra  6pi>ea  ko.1  rbv  '  0\ip.iriov 
iir  p  e<r  j3  eij  o  vt  o  riyepAva  vapa<Tx^v  airrois  '  ty  yap  dvapx'a  rods 
6pvi$as  rb  \vttovv... 

46  Babrii  Fabulae,  ed.  Crusius,  accedunt .  .  .  Ignaiii  Tetrasticha  Iambica, 
ed.  Mueller,  Lipsiae,  1897,  p.  275. 


17]  STRANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  321 

690  suppl,  of  the  "Augustan"  type  (xn  century).47  The 
variations  which  our  fable  shows  respectively  in  this  MS.,  in 
the  Codex  Casinensis48  (late  xn  century?),  and  in  Halm 
200b  (from  a  MS.  probably  of  a  mixed  type),  will  be  seen 
from  the  Table  of  Motifs  to  consist  entirely  in  greater  or  less 
fulness  of  detail — least  in  the  Augustan,  and  most,  naturally, 
in  the  mixed  type.  The  verbal  correspondences  show  the 
closest  of  relationships.  The  important  deviations  of  the 
Prose-Aesop  form  of  our  fable  from  the  Ehetorical  type 
are:  (1)  Zeus'  messenger  is  not  mentioned;  (2)  no  particular 
bird  is  named  as  the  first  to  discover  the  Daw's  trick;  (3)  the 
Daw  is  said  to  have  "  pasted  "  (  Trpoae/coWwae )  the  feathers 
on  himself.  This  last  touch  is  not  in  Aug.,  and  is  evi- 
dently an  inheritance  from  Babrius'  /ca0v<yp<0v  evro<?  app,6<ra<; 
a>fi(Dv,  via  the  Bodleian,  or  other,  paraphrase.  The  other 
variations  are  wholly,  as  will  be  noted,  in  the  nature  of 
omissions;  and  we  are  thus  confirmed  in  our  belief  that 
the  Many-Bird  type  of  the  fable  belonged  only  to  the  Ehe- 
torical or  "learned "  division,  and  was  never  a  part  of  the 
"  popular "  collection  which  culminated  in  the  Recensio 
Accursiana.  The  only  addition  at  all  notable  furnished  by 
the  Prose- Aesop  to  the  Ehetorical  form  of  our  fable  is  the 
catch-phrase  at  the  end  which  I  have  already  quoted:  "and 
the  Daw  became  again  a  Daw." 

In  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century  John  Tzetzes,  Byzan- 
tine grammarian,  put  a  version  of  our  fable  into  his  versi- 
fied mythological-historical  encyclopedia  [Chil.  vm,  11.  500- 
522]. 49  He  mentions  Babrius  among  others  at  the  end;  but 
the  Table  of  Motifs  shows  that  his  sources  were :  ( 1 )  a 
version  of  the  Ehetorical  type  (of  the  Aphthonius-Libanius 
variety)  and  (2)  a  Prose- Aesop  version  akin  to  the  Codex 
Casinensis.  All  indications  are  distinctly  away  from  his 
having  used  the  version  of  Babrius  directly.     In  a  sort  of 

"Sternbach,  ed.  cit.,  p.  65.  4SFuria,  ed.  cit.,  fab.  78. 

wJoannis  Tzetzae  Chiliades,  ed.  Kiessling,  Lipsiae,  1826. 

20 


322  Austin  [18 

postscript  Tzetzes  gives  a  brief  disquisition  on  the  koXoios 
which  seems  to  indicate  either  that  his  acquaintance  with 
the  bird  was  rather  literary  than  actual,  or  else  that  to  him 
ko\oi6<;  meant  not  the  Daw  but  some  varicolored  bird, 
probably  the  Magpie. 

A  short  reference  to  our  fable  which  is  found  in  the  minor 
works  50  of  Eustathius,  Archbishop  of  Thessalonica  (ft.  cir. 
1160),  does  not  offer  enough  features  to  determine  its  source. 

Finally,  the  fable  occurs  in  the  Progymnasmata  (no.  5) 
of  the  twelfth  century  rhetorician  Mcephorus  Basilaea.51  In 
his  version,  as  in  that  of  Theophylactus,  we  have  the  birds 
acting  on  their  own  initiative  and  desirous  of  a  ruler  for  the 
sake  of  security;  but  there  the  resemblance  ends.  The  birds 
hold  their  own  election,  and  the  Daw  is  actually  chosen  king 
before  they  discover  his  trick  and  pull  out  their  own  feathers ; 
and  the  punishment  does  not  end  with  his  humiliation,  as 
in  all  the  other  Greek  versions,  but  they  fall  upon  him  with 
their  claws  and  tear  him  to  pieces.  To  determine  the  pro- 
venience of  this  version  is  therefore  a  rather  complicated 
problem;  but  a  sequence  of  isolated  correspondences  with  the 
version  of  Libanius,  and  a  realization  of  the  fundamental 
difference  in  the  general  nature  of  the  two  versions,  together 
with  a  recognition  of  the  fact  that  Libanius'  version  was, 
like  Nicephorus',  contained  in  a  work  intended  for  a  "  First 
Steps  in  Rhetoric"  and  was  the  only  other  version  thus 
circumstanced — all  these  considerations  have  led  me  to  adopt 
an  explanation  which  seems  fairly  satisfactory.  Nicephorus' 
version  agrees  with  the  non-Phedrine  Latin-Romance  type 
of  the  fable  in:  (1)  having  no  mythological  machinery  and 
presenting  a  council  of  birds  more  or  less  autonomous  in  its 


50  Opusctda,  ed.  Tafel,  Frankfurt  a/M..  1832,  p.  331,  11.  10-13: 
['OnuK-/)<r(ov,  stripped  of  his  garments,  after  the  death  of  his  protector,  is 
complaining].  .  .  M^jtotc  ical  ko\oi$,  rtf  rod  fitidov,  wap6fioia  irticovOa  ' 
ical  riuis  fxef  tuv  iwKpaivopJvuv  irrlXwv,  lunpbv  Si  daov  ical  tuv  xnroKpvir- 
rofiAvwv  yvfivbt  irepteXefoouai. 

51  Rhetorea  Graeei,  ed.  Walz,  Stuttgart,  etc.,  1832,  Vol.  i,  p.  427  sq. 


19]  STBANGE-FEATHERS    FABLE  32-3 

nature;  in  (2)  mentioning  no  bathing  by  the  birds;  (3) 
no  particular  bird  as  the  first  to  discover  the  Daw's  trick. 
That  is,  it  seems  to  belong  distinctly  to  the  "  popular " 
tradition  of  the  Many-Bird  form,  with  its  comparative  lack 
of  artistic  embellishment  and  of  dramatic  movement.  Now 
if  we  postulate  that  Nicephorus  had  this  "  popular  "  form  in 
mind,  but  introduced  some  characteristics  from  the  version 
in  the  only  Progymnasmata  before  his  own  which  contained 
the  fable  (that  is,  from  Libanius),  where  points  of  contact 
existed  between  the  two  versions,  we  can  understand  the 
situation.  These  points  of  contact  themselves  will  present 
the  following  variation  in  the  two  accounts:  that  whereas 
Zeus  is  the  prime  mover  and  the  judge  in  the  conventional 
version  of  Libanius,  it  is  in  the  birds  themselves  that  JSTice- 
phorus'  version  vests  these  functions.  Observing  this  change, 
the  verbal  coincidences  gain  in  weight.  They  may  be  tabu- 
ated  viz. : — 

Libanius.  Nicephorus. 

*E5o£e  [1st  word]  t<?  Ail"  j3a<n-  "E5o|e    [1st    word]     .   .   .    rots 

\ev<rai  Kal  rb  bpvlduv  yivos,    Kal  .  .  .        6pvicii>  dpxe<r^at)-  •  •  Ka^  /3a<rtX&i 
irpoj  aydva  /cdXXovs  iK&Xei,  ws  ddxruv       eXe'crdai. 
...    &  P  X  i  "• 

—  6  .  .  .     Ko\oibs    ...     4  ir  ire  x~  —  J    KoXoids    £  r  ex  "  d<r  ar  o  .  ,  . 
v  a  r  a  i  .  .  . 

—  0  a  fx  (i  o  s  Si  ^/3aXXe  Kal  avrf  —  dp-f)xavov     e^      0  a  /a  (3  o  s     roiis 
t$   SiKaffry.                                                    deup.e'vovs  6pvtdas  irapeKlvrjffev. 

—  £  y  v  p.  v  o  v  t  o    tov    ko\olov     rb  —  rbv    KoiXoibv    direyvpvuxrav. 
elbcs  .  .  . 

Moral.  Moral. 

—  rb   p.i]    toTs    olicelois    ko  <r  pel-  —  irepidirrois    k  6  <r  p.  o  i  $  .  .  . 


Eecapitulating :  The  Many-Bird  form  of  the  Strange- 
Feathers  fable  seems  to  be  post-Aesopic  in  origin  and  the 
result  of  a  synthesis  of  a  hypothetical  Zeus-Daw-and-King- 
ship-of-Birds     fable     with     one,     rather     "  popular "     than 


324  austin  [20 

"  learned "  in  vogue,  of  a  Crow  and  a  Beauty-contest, 
which  latter  shows  its  traces  possibly  in  Horace  and 
Eunapius,  probably  in  Xicephorus,  and  has  as  its  direct 
descendants  a  group  of  medieval  Latin  and  Romance 
versions.  The  fusion  of  the  two  was  complete  and  the 
resultant  fable  already  proverbial  by  the  middle  of  the 
first  century  B.  C.  Its  written  versions  then  passed  in 
distinguishable  lines  through  (1)  the  Prose- Aesop  ancestors 
of  the  non-Accursian  tradition;  through  (2)  the  poetical 
embellishments  of  Babrius,  whose  version  perceptibly  influ- 
enced that  prose-tradition  later,  as  well  as  the  following: 
and  then  (3)  ran  the  gauntlet  of  the  Rhetoricians  of  the 
fourth  century  A.  D.  For  eight  centuries  more  it  persists, 
only  to  be  driven  out  in  the  twelfth  by  the  Latin  descendants 
of  the  "  popular  "  great-ancestor  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the 
other  by  the  supposititious  line  of  Phaedrus'  Daw-and- 
Peacock  fable ;  which  latter  ultimately  ousts  its  single  remain- 
ing competitor  and  rules  the  domain  triumphant  to  the 
present  moment. 


TEES   I   OK      TREE 


*ZEUS,  DAW  and  KINGSHIP  of  BIRDS 
-"Learnedntradition(?) 


Daw  and  Crows 
fable 


*CR0W,and  BEAUTY-CONTEST 
"Popular"tradition 


ZEUS, DAW, BEAUTY-CONTEST, AND  KINGSHIP   OP  BIRDS 


"popu- 
Phsdrua         lar' 


3abrius     , 

iphthonius* 


jjaonus 
ira-    y\ 


pa 

pljra-     s  *  ± 

sea      <'Libaniua> 

*  \  (Theraiatius )  \ 

\c   0  R  P  U   S/' 

3  \   A   / 


Frogs 

King 
fable 


P-?g       \  E 


r-      KB/ 

I — T 

♦  ♦         0 


Theophylactu3  R 
I 
C 

u 

H 


Recensio 
Augustana  , , 

I    Codex 
Ca8inensis 


"1 

T30tZ63 


bit 


Kalm  200 
mixed  type{?) 


Medieval 

Latin-Rouance 

Phedrino 

group 


Nicephoru3 
Basilaca 


Medieval 
tin- 


Latin-   Romance 

non-Phad~rina 

group 


Explanation: 

Mere   references  in  round  bracketa 

♦Starred  forms  hypothetieaL 

Slanting  lines  show  less  certain 

relationships. 

Ignatius  Diacorms  and  Paraphrasis  Bod- 

leiana  omitted: both  known  to  be   from  B&briuB.. 

Non-Greek  versions  and  references  underlined. 


(iadij  paxtra)  qoos  va\vn 


stsnaniSBQ  xapoj 


BUBjsn^nv  oisnaoaji 


(sniqjBisng) 


BOBiis«a  siuoqdaoijj 


sazjazx 


> 


snuoo'Big  sntjBuSi 


—  —       —  _:  _=  _= 


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oo    oooo 


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(snrjsinwqx) 


sniuBqii 


sniuoq^qdy 


(utnjjnjMx 


snuqcg 


([nq]  uBioni) 


(sovuojf) 


(smnaponqa) 


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CC03 


THE  VERSIONS  OF  THE  FABLE  OF  THE 
PEACOCK  AND  JUNO 

BY 

A.  E.  Curdy 


Of  the  fables  which  have  come  down  to  us  from  antiquity, 
none  is  more  interesting  in  its  genealogy,  or  better  adapted 
to  special  study,  than  that  discussed  in  the  present  study.1 
The  versions  of  the  fable  of  the  Peacock  and  Juno  follow, 
in  general,  the  treatment  in  their  prototype,  the  Phaedrus, 
but  with  variations  or  additions,  some  of  which  reappear  in 
numerous  redactions,  while  others  are  independent. 

At  first  glance  the  versions  fall  into  two  groups:  (a)  those 

1  The  present  examination  deals  solely  with  the  fable  as  contained 
in  certain  versions  from  Phaedrus  to  Caxton.  The  results  will 
not,  in  all  cases,  agree  with  the  statements  of  writers  who  have 
based  their  judgments  regarding  relationship  upon  a  study  of  the 
collections  as  such,  taking  as  their  criteria  the  order  of  arrangement 
of  the  fables  in  the  collections,  the  title,  beginning,  and  ending, 
together  with  the  general  idea  of  each  fable.  This  does  not  suffice, 
for  it  is  certain  that  some  writers  of  fables  received  their  inspi- 
ration from  various  sources,  drawing  now  from  one  for  a  certain 
fable,  and,  again  from  a  different  stock  for  others.  Hence,  the 
fables  must  be  studied  individually  before  a  true  judgment  can 
be  rendered  regarding  an  entire  collection.  Few  quotations  from 
the  writings  of  students  are  made  in  the  following  pages,  although 
most  of  them  have  been  examined,  for,  as  has  just  been  stated, 
their  remarks  apply  generally  to  the  collections  rather  than  to  the 
individual  themes.  In  order  not  to  extend  too  greatly  the  limits 
of  this  paper,  it  is  necessary  to  treat  a  portion  of  the  study  very 
summarily.  Collections  which  are  not  at  present  available  to  the 
writer  are  not  discussed  here,  and  no  excursions  into  the  field  of 
folk-lore  have  been  made,  nor  will  any  versions  later  than  Caxton 
be  treated. 

1]  •  329 


330  CUEDY  [2 

in  which  there  is  an  enumeration  of  gifts  to  the  peacock  and 
to  other  creatures,  and  (&)  those  in  which  there  is  simply 
an  allusion  to  the  gifts  or  powers,  or  no  mention  at  all 
beyond  that  of  song  or  beauty.  To  the  former  group  belong 
Phaedrus,  Weissenburgensis,  Vulgaris,  Nilant,  Trevirensis, 
Neckam,  Te  Winkel,  Florentinus,  Vienna  Codex  303,  Ysopet 
II  de  Paris,  Steinhowel,  Ysopet  de  Chartres,  and  Caxton. 
The  second  group  is  represented  by  the  Fabulae  Metricae, 
F.  Ehythmicae,  Bozon,  Harleianus,  Marie  de  France,  Eic- 
cardiano,  Laurenziano,  and  Palatine  This  division  is  of  no 
significance  in  the  genealogy  of  the  fable,  as  an  examination 
of  the  summary  on  the  last  page  of  this  article  will  show. 
The  earliest  version  of  which  we  have  knowledge  is  that  of 
Phaedrus,  c.  25  A.  D.  (Ph).2  It  is  no.  18  of  the  collection 3 
and  reads  as  follows: 

Pavo  ad  Junonem  de  Voce  sua. 

Pavo  ad  Junonem  venit,  indigne  ferens, 

Cantus  luscinii   quod  sibi   non  tribuerit; 
Ilium  esse  cunetis  avibus  admirabilem, 
Se  derideri,  simul  ac  voccm  miserit 
Tunc    consolandi    gratia    dixit    Dea: 
Sed    forma    vincis,    vincis    magnitudine; 
Nitor    smaragdi    collo    praefulget    tuo 

Pictisque  plumis  gemmeam   caudam  explicas. 
Quo   ml,   inquit,  mutam  speciem,   si  vineor  sono? 
Fatorum  arbitrio  partes  sunt  vobis  datae: 
Tibi   forma,  vires  aquilae,   luscinio   melos, 
Augurium  corvo,  laeva  eornici  omina, 
Omnesque  propriis   sunt  contentae  dotibus. 

Noli  adfectare  quod  tibi  non  est  datum, 
Delusa  ne  spes  ad  querelam  recidat. 

2  The  abbreviations  in  parentheses  will  be  used  to  represent  the 
versions. 

8  The  text  is  in  L.  Hervieux,  Les  Fabulistes  Latins,  5  vols.  2d  ed., 
Paris,  1893-1896;   II,  38,  and  discussion,  I,  5  ff. 


3]  FABLE    OF    THE    PEACOCK    AND    JUNO  331 

This  version  has  no  introduction  by  way  of  moral,  and  the 
injunction  at  the  end  is  of  the  briefest  character.  The  inci- 
dents are  few  in  number,  only  enough  to  develop  and  illus- 
trate the  idea,  and  are  without  embellishment.  Most  of  the 
themes  reappear  in  later  redactions.  Of  the  personages,  the 
peacock  appears  in  all,  and  Juno  is  a  character  in  eleven, 
her  place  being  taken  in  the  others  by  Nature,  Destiny, 
Creator,  Goddess,  Lord.  No  Christian  element  enters  into 
the  Phaedrus  narration. 

The  version  next  in  date  is  the  Weissenburgensis,  c.  925 
(W).  There  is  such  a  striking  resemblance  between  it  and 
Vulgaris,  c.  950  (Vg),  Florentinus,  1250  (F),  and  Vienna 
Codex  303,  c.  1350  (Vn),  as  to  suggest  that  they  be  con- 
sidered together.4  That  they  are  interrelated  is  evidenced  by 
the  large  number  of  similar  motifs  and  the  manner  of  express- 
ing them.  Of  the  total  number  of  motifs  in  the  group, 
fourteen  appear  in  all  four  versions,  thus  indicating  a  com- 
mon source.  Only  three  of  the  Ph.  motifs  fail  to  reappear: 
laeva  cornici  omina;  omnesque  propriis  sunt  contentae;  delusa 
ne  spes  ad  querelam  recidat;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  story 
receives  several  additions :  cock  tells  the  hour  of  the  night; 
swallow  enjoys  the  light;  gods  are  givers;  crane  makes  known 
the  time;  thrush  broods  in  the  olive  tree;  dove  mourns;  bat 
flies  in  the  evening;  nestling  chirps.  Omitting  from  con- 
sideration the  features  in  which  all  four  versions  agree,  we 
find  that  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  have  the  gods  as  givers,  while  W.  (and 
Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  as  an  addition)  has  the  fates.  W.,  Vg.,  F.  agree 
in  the  words  of  the  introduction  regarding  the  recipient.  In 
the  complaint  all  four  have  the  bird  as  iratus  or  indignans, 
and  Vn.  states,  in  addition,  that  the  peacock  comes  to  Juno 
'  graviter  ferens.'     Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  express  the  peacock's  gifts 

*The  text  of  W.  is  to  be  found  in  Hervieux,  n,  188;  of  Vg.,  ib.,  n, 
225,  and  in  H.  Oesterley,  Romulus,  die  Paraphrasen  des  Phaedrus. 
Berlin,  1870;  4.  4.  p.  30;  of  F.,  in  Hervieux,  n,  504;  of  Vn.,  ib., 
II,  445. 


332  curdy  [4 

as  nitor,  color,  forma,  gemmea  cauda,  cauda  lucens,  visus 
superat  vocem  (F.  omnes  voces,  and  W.  pulchritudinem  su- 
perat  vocem),  grus  ostendit  tempus,  in  oliva  parit  turdus, 
forma  superat  lusciniam  (W.  formonsam  superat  .  .  .  .), 
grunnire  accepit  columba  (W.  grunnit  columbus),  nudus  sero 
volat  vespertilio  (W.  nidus  fugit  v.)  ;  W.  has  pectusque 
flammis,  Vg.  pictisque  plumis,  and  Vn.  pectore  flamme.  The 
agreements  noted  place  these  three  versions  in  a  group 
separate  from  W.  Meanwhile  W.,  Vg.,  Vn.  show  agreement 
in  nullus  similis  tibi  (Vn.  nullusque  volucrum  similis  est 
tibi)  ;  Vg.  dolet  ritus;  W.,  Vn.,  dolores  Jiabet  thetus;  Vn.. 
Vg.,  cauda  et  collo  refulgent;  W.  .  .  lucens;  W.,  Vn.  have 
exclusively  pipilat  nibulus  [nidulus?],  and  Vg.,  F.  have 
exclusively  fabula  narrat,  or  probat,  luscinia  cantaret  et  hu- 
mana  cognosceret ;  Vg.,  Vn.  have  omnibus  in  suo  (h)abundat. 
Finally,  the  moral,  or  injunction  in  W.  is  vero  nolo  ut  queras 
illud  quod  tibi  non  est  datum;  F.,  Vn.  nolo  queras  quod  tibi 
a  diis  non  est  datum;  Vg.  tu  vero  queras  quod  tibi  a  diis  non 
est  datum.  This  evidence,  then,  places  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  in  a 
special  group,  and  suggests  a  possible  intermediate  version 
of  which  we  have  no  knowledge;  or  the  situation  may  be  due 
to  the  influence  of  the  earliest  of  the  versions,  Vg.,  on  the 
others.  Aesopus  ad  Kufum,5  now  lost,  may  have  contained 
these  separate  motifs,  which  were  omitted,  for  some  reason, 
by  the  scribe. 

The  agreement  between  W.  and  Vn.  remains  to  be  ex- 
plained. Hervieux  6  states  a  well-known  fact  when  he  says 
that  in  the  eleventh  century  there  was  a  fever  for  correction 
by  more  or  less  ignorant  scribes,  who,  in  their  desire  to  give 
sense  to  what  was  unintelligible  or  misunderstood,  changed 
whole  lines.     Then  he  adds  that  the  corrector,  in  reestablish- 

5  Collections  -which  are  lost  or  inaccessible  are  inserted  in  the 
positions  determined  by  the  investigations  of  the  Romance  Seminary 
of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University. 

6 1,  p.  278. 


5]  FABLE    OF    THE    PEACOCK    AND    JUNO  333 

ing  the  disfigured  text  of  W.,  had  recourse  to  a  text,  which  was 
neither  that  of  Ph.  nor  the  Romulus  Primitivus,  and  which 
Hervieux  calls  R.  de  Yienne.  Further,  he  gives  7  four  reasons 
why  W.  is  not  out  of  R.  Prim.:  (1)  The  copyist  would  have 
followed  the  divisions  of  his  model;  (2)  He  would  have 
copied  it  in  the  same  order;  (3)  He  would  have  used 
the  same  dedication;  (4)  He  would  not  have  given,  as  a 
preamble,  the  dedicatory  epistle  to  Rufus,  which  could  be 
borrowed  only  from  Aes.  ad  Rufum.  In  many  instances  W. 
and  Prim,  seem  to  be  imitations  rather  than  copies  of  Ruf. 
In  W.  there  occur  expressions  from  Ph.  which  are  not  found  in 
Prim.,  and  Prim,  also  preserves  some  not  in  W.  Each  might 
have  made  changes.  The  conclusion  is  that  Prim,  and  W. 
were  imitations  of  Ruf.,  differing  slightly  from  the  model, 
yet  sufficiently  servile  to  give  an  idea  of  what  it  had  been. 
The  W.  which  we  possess  8  is  not  the  original  W.,  of  925,  but 
a  rewriting  of  the  fable  according  to  the  925  W.,  with  what 
additions  or  omissions  we  are  unable  to  say.  Thus  we  must 
take  W.  and  Prim,  out  of  Ruf.,  and  it  is  reasonably  certain 
that  Prim,  was  the  source  of  Vn.,  Vg.,  and  F. 

Nilant,  c.  1050  (Ni).  Of  all  the  early  texts  Ni.9  is  the 
most  compact  and  condensed.     It  is  given  here  in  full: 

De  Pavone  invidente  Concentui  Philomenae. 

Refert  subsequens  fabula,  quod  omnis  homo  debet  libenter 
uti  et  frui  illis  donis  quae  illi  Deus  concessit.  Jam  dudum 
Pavo,  iratus  et  indignans,  ad  Junonem  dixisse  fertur:  Jam, 

'i,  p.  316. 

•  For  a  discussion  of  the  manuscripts  of  W.,  see  Hervieux,  I, 
livre  ii,  chap.  II. 

*  Hervieux,  II,  p.  540 ;  Thiele,  Der  illustrierte  Lateinische  Aesop  in 
der  Hs.  des  Ademar,  Codex  Vossianus.  Lat.  Oct.  15.  Fol.  195-205. 
Leiden,  1905. 


334  CUEDY  [6 

Domina  mea,  vehementer  doleo  eo  quod  despectus  sim  ab 
omnibus,  quia  Luscinia  pulcrius  et  honorabilius  canit  me. 
Quapropter  jam  ab  omnibus  derideor.  Cui  Juno  ita  respon- 
disse  fertur  consolandi  gratia:  Pulcritudo  formae  tuae  omnes 
aereas  volucres  antecellit,  colore  et  nitore  smaragdi  profusa. 
Xulla  enim  avis  similis  tui;  picta  enim  es  plumis  similibus 
fulgentibus  gemmis;  color  tuus  omnibus  fulgoribus  terrestri- 
bus  praecellit.  Et  Pavo  ad  Junonem  sic  ait:  Quid  mihi 
color  proficit,  quia  superor  voce  Lusciniae? 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  introduction  differs  materially 
from  the  injunction  in  Ph.,  and  that  it  lacks  any  mention 
of  other  creatures  or  their  powers  or  graces,  Very  few  of  the 
Ph.  motifs  have  been  retained,  and  these  few  have  been 
altered:  despectus  sim  takes  the  place  of  derideri,  doleo  that 
of  miserit,  luscinia  pulcrius  et  honorabilius  canit  me  that  of 
cantus  luscinii,  etc.;  the  simple  Ph.  forma  vincis  is  elabo- 
rated in  NL  to  pulcritudo  formae  tuae  omnes  aereas  volucres 
antecellit,  smaragdi  is  repeated,  fulgentibus  strengthens  the 
beauty  of  the  gems,  color  tuus  omnibus  fulgoribus  terrestribus 
precellit  is  a  sweeping  assertion  not  found  in  Ph.  nor  in  the 
four  versions  just  discussed.  The  tale  is  simple  and  primi- 
tive in  character,  and  belongs  to  a  period  prior  to  W.,  and 
nearer  to  Ph.  than  to  the  other  versions  already  discussed. 

Ni.  has  nine  of  the  motifs  in  the  group  previously  dis- 
cussed, but  the  omission  of  the  remainder  separates  it  from 
this  group.  Its  similarity  to  Ph.  draws  it  further  from 
Vg.,  R,  Vn.,  W.,  and  places  it  prior  to  the  common  source  of 
these  four  versions.  The  paucity  of  its  statements  might 
indicate  that  its  source  was  an  earlier  form  than  Ph.,  but, 
in  view  of  the  lack  of  documentary  evidence,  this  cannot  be 
definitely  asserted. 

Hervieux  discusses  10  the  version  known  as  Aes.  ad  Eufum 
and  the  relationship  of  this  version  with  Ni.  and  Prim.,  which 

10 1,  pp.  325,  710,  714.     See  also  Thiele,  op.  cit. 


7]  FABLE     OF    THE    PEACOCK    AND    JUNO  335 

is  shown  not  only  by  the  subjects  treated,  but  also  by  the 
order  of  arrangement.  He  argues  that  Ni.  is  a  paraphrase 
of  Prim.11  But  an  examination  of  the  fable  of  the  Peacock 
and  Juno  does  not  bear  out  the  view  of  Hervieux.  Warnke  12 
concludes  that  Ni.  contains  a  selection  from  a  version  which 
is  parallel  to  Vg.,  but  not  identical  with  it.  As  W.  has  an 
addition  of  twenty-one  motifs,  and  Ni.  of  seven  only,  the 
inference  is  that  W.  has  gone  several  steps  further  than  Ni. 

Trevirensis,  c.  1175  (T).  This  version  lS  does  not  belong  to 
the  Ni.  group,  for:  (1)  It  agrees  with  Ni.  only  in  two  motifs : 
is  derided  by  all  (which  is  also  in  Vg.,  and  occurs  only  in 
Me.  in  the  Ni.  group),  and  sad  (which,  while  running 
through  the  Ni.  group,  occurs  also  in  four  versions  of  the 
Vg.  group,  though  not  in  Vg.  itself) ;  (2)  There  are  eight 
other  motifs  not  in  the  Ni.  group,  which  occur  in  several 
versions  of  the  Vg.  group:  nature;  feathers  shine;  cock  tells 
the  hours;  crane  makes  known  the  time;  swallow  announces 
light,  or  salutes  the  morn;  dove  mourns;  hat  flies.  Yet  one 
motif,  what  are  these  feathers  to  me,  also  in  Me.,  is  not  in 
any  other  version,  but  in  all  probability  this  is  a  casual 
variation.  T.  agrees  with  Wk.,  which  is  treated  later,  and 
Vg.,  in  cock  tells  the  hours  of  the  night;  swallow  salutes  the 
morn;  bat  flies;  and  with  S.,  Vg.  in  scorned  because  of  mean 
voice;  because  you  shine,  or  feathers  shine;  crane  makes 
known  time;  dove  mourns;  bat  flies  in  the  evening.  Thus  T. 
must  be  out  of  Vg.  Later  it  will  be  shown,  under  Par.  and 
Ch.,  that  Ch.,  G.,  S.,  Wk.,  Nk.,  T.  agree  in  cock  tells  the 
hours,  and  that  Ch.,  S.,  Wk.,  Nk.,  T.  agree  in  the  question 

"Mtiller  (De  Phaedri  et  Aviani  fabulis  libellus,  "Lipsiae,  1875, 
p.  16)  is  of  a  different  opinion. 

a  Die  Quellen  des  Eaope  der  Marie  de  France.  Forschungen  zur 
romanischen  Philologie;  Festgabe  fur  Hermann  Suchier,  Halle,  1900; 
p.  162. 

u"De  Pavone."     Hervieux,  n,  p.  619. 


386  curdy  [8 

what  is  worth  (quid  valet,  proficit,  prosunt,  produit).  This, 
then,  additionally  establishes  the  indebtedness  of  T.  to  Vg. 
"Warnke  14  discusses  the  relationship  of  LBG  (another  name 
for  T.)  and  Alfred  of  England,  and  gives  the  opinions  of 
G.  Paris,  Hervieux,  and  Mall,  all  of  whom  consider  the  fablea 
collectively.  Their  conclusions  do  not  entirely  agree  with 
those  reached  here  in  so  far  as  the  study  concerns  the  fable 
of  the  Peacock  and  Juno. 

T.  is  the  first  in  date  to  use  nature  or  creator.  Ph.,  W., 
Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  have  fatorum  arbitrio;  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.,  add  a  diis. 
Nature  is  repeated  in  Nk.,  Ch.,  and  Par.  Wk.  has  God. 
The  occurrence  of  nature  in  Nk.  and  T.  may  be  explained 
by  supposing  that  Nk.  saw  T.  and  took  this  idea  from  it. 
Ch.  also  testifies  to  the  influence  of  Nk.  by  the  fact  that  it 
is  followed  by  an  elegiac  distich  in  Latin  taken  from  Nk. 
An  examination  of  the  versions  suggests  another  solu- 
tion. In  T.  the  peacock  approaches  his  creator;  creator 
answers:  'do  not  demand  more  than  the  creator  has  granted 
you ' ;  one  is  admonished  to  be  satisfied  with  what  nature  has 
given;  nature  sends  none  away  empty.  In  Nk.  nature  gives 
strength;  nature  gives  each  one  what  she  pleases.  This  asso- 
ciation of  creator  with  his  visible  representative,  nature,  per- 
haps arose  independently.  The  writer  may  have  wished  to 
vary  his  locutions,  and  to  avoid  the  repetition  of  the  word 
creator,  which  appears  in  the  lines  noted. 

Neckam,  c.  1215  (Nk.).  This  version  offers  slight  evi- 
dence upon  which  to  base  a  judgment,  but  there  is  enough 
to  show  that  it  is  out  of  Vg.,  and  so  to  accord  with  Her- 
vieux's  15  statement  that  of  the  forty-two  fables  of  Neckam, 
thirty-seven  have  Vg.  as  a  basis.  Nk.  has  twenty-one  motifs, 
of  which  six  are  its  own:  vincor  modulis;  praemodicae  volu- 

14  Die  Fabeln  der  Marie  de  France.     Halle,  1898;   p.  L. 
""De   Philomena   et   Pavone."     Hervieux,   I,   676,   II,   414;    E.   du 
Meril,  Poesies  ine'dites  du  Moyen  Age.     Paris,  1854;   pp.  209-210. 


9]  FABLE    OF    THE     PEACOCK    AND    JUNO  337 

cris;  modulos  modicae  dulces  dedit  haec  philomenae  (this 
appears  elsewhere  only  in  Ph.  as  luscinio  melos) ;  luciferum 
progne  voce  notare  docet;  natura  dedit;  nulli  vult  vitae  com- 
moda  cuncta  dare;  tibi  variumque  color  em.  Nk.  agrees  with 
Vg.,  F.,  Vn.,  Ni.  in  six  motifs :  form;  color;  like  a  gem  (an 
emerald  in  W.,  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.) ;  raven  prophesies;  cock  tells 
hours;  I  am  conquered  in  voice;  with  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  in  one: 
colorem;  with  Vg.,  F.  in  one:  quid  prosunt.  This  leads  to 
the  group  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  as  the  source,  but,  as  Vn.,  F.  are  too 
late,  and  as  Ni.  has  shown  no  influence,  Vg.  is  the  only 
possible  source  for  Nk.  We  thus  have  Nk.  and  S.,  as  will 
be  demonstrated  later,  out  of  a  common  parent,  Vg.  It  is 
not  possible  to  treat  Nk.  and  S.  together,  nor  is  it  possible 
to  confirm  our  decision  by  a  comparison  of  Nk.  and  S.,  for 
they  have  few  motifs  in  common.  Out  of  the  thirty-one  in 
S.  and  the  twenty-one  in  Nk.,  only  five  are  common;  nor 
does  a  study  of  their  derivatives  establish  a  relationship. 
Consequently,  each  must  stand  on  its  individual  proof.  The 
indebtedness  of  Nk.  to  Vg.  is  further  shown  in  the  discussion 
of  Par.  and  Ch.,  which  proves  that  Ch.,  G.,  Nk.,  S.,  Wk.,  T. 
are  from  a  common  stock,  which,  in  the  case  of  Ch.,  G.,  Nk., 
must  also  have  been  Vg.  See  the  discussion  of  the  motifs 
sad  and  angry. 

Te  Winkel,  c.  1275  (Wk.).16  Under  Ch.  and  Par.  we  shall 
see  that  the  motifs  cock  tells  the  hours  of  the  night  and  an- 
nounces the  morning  give  a  common  source  for  Ch.,  S.,  G., 
Nk.,  Wk.,  T.,  namely,  Vg.  All  the  motifs,  except  one,  ic 
sterve  van  rowen,  occur  in  Vg.,  and  all  except  one,  nightingale 
has  better  voice,  or  song,  are  in  S.  (in  Vg.,  it  is  vincor  sono). 
This  would  indicate  that  Wk.  is  out  of  Vg.,  with  the  addition 
of  the  motif  ic  sterve  van  rowen.     Also,  the  agreement  of 

"  Esopet,  .  .  .  uitgegeven  .  .  .  door  J.  Te  Winkel,  no.  29  of  Bibl. 
van  middelnederlandsche  Letterkunde,  Groningen,  1868;  pp.  65-66, 
Fable  lviii. 

21 


338  CURDY  [10 

Wk.,  S.  in  three  motifs:  gods;  form;  eagle  has  greater 
strength,  indicates  a  common  source,  and,  as  it  is  seen  in  the 
discussion  of  S.  that  S.  is  out  of  Vg.,  one  statement  supports 
the  other.  Again,  a  comparison  of  Nk.  and  Wk.  shows  that 
they  agree  in  two  motifs:  form;  eagle  has  strength.  There- 
fore, we  have  Nk.,  S.,  Wk.  out  of  a  common  original,  Vg. 
Further,  under  T.,  it  is  seen  that  T.,  Wk.,  Vg.  are  common, 
and  that  T.,  S.,  Vg.  are  also  common. 

Ysopet  II  de  Paris,    c.    1350    (Par)  "    and  Ysopet  de 

Chartres,  c.  1250  (Ch.).18  At  this  point  our  task  becomes 
difficult  and  at  times  hopeless,  for  the  evidence  grows  slender, 
and  there  is  a  lack  of  agreement  where  we  should  expect 
harmony.  Eecourse  must  consequently  be  had  to  the  results 
of  the  general  investigations  of  the  collections.  Par.,  Ch. 
contain  a  similar  number  of  motifs,  not  all,  however,  agree- 
ing. Par.  adds  to  the  general  stock  peacock  hears  nightin- 
gale sing  (this  has  been  hinted  at  in  other  versions)  ; 
cock  announces  the  morning  (in  other  versions  the  same 
idea  is  expressed  as  it  tells  the  time  or  is  prophet  of  the 
hours) ;  nature  gave  virtues  and  graces;  the  rich  and  poor 
are  contrasted,  and  their  position  on  earth  and  in  heaven  is 
discussed;  each  should  be  content  with  what  Jesus  Christ 
gives.  New  motifs  in  Ch.  are:  nightingale  has  crown;  nature 
gave  delight  in  song.  An  examination  of  the  entire  list  dis- 
closes the  following  status:  (a)  Ch.,  Par.  agree  with  Nk.  in 
nature  gives;  cock  tells  the  hours;  Par.,  Nk.  introduce  beauty 
and  form;  Ch.,  Nk.  agree  in  raven  prophesies;  cock   tells 

"The  title  is  "  Comment  le  Paon  se  courrouce  de  ce  qu'il  ne 
chante  comme  faist  le  Rossignol."  Robert,  Fables  ine"dites  des  Xlle, 
XHIe  et  XlVe  siecles,  et  Fables  de  La  Fontaine.  Paris,  1825;  I, 
150-152:    fable  39. 

11  The  title  is  "  Dou  Poon  et  dou  Rousignol  parce  chacun  doit 
suffire."  Duplessis,  Fables  en  vers  du  XII le  siecle.  Chartres,  1834, 
pp.  58-59. 


11]  FABLE    OF    THE     PEACOCK    AND    JUNO  339 

hours  (announces,  prophet);  not  all  gifts  to  one;  (6)  raven 
prophesies  is  in  Ch.,  G.,  Nit,  Vn.,  Vg.,  F.;  cock  tells  the 
hours  is  in  Ch.,  G.,  Nk.,  Vn.,  Vg.,  F.,  S.,  Wk.,  T. ;  what  profit 
is  in  Ch.,  Nk.,  Vg.,  F.,  S.,  Wk.,  T.;  (c)  raven  prophesies 
shows  a  common  source  for  Ch.,  G.,  Nk. ;  what  profit  shows 
a  common  source  for  Ch.,  S.,  Nk.,  Wk.,  T. ;  cock  tells 
hours  makes  Ch.,  G.,  S.,  Nk.,  Wk.,  T.  common.  These 
motifs  are  found  in  Vg.  and  F.,  and,  as  F.  is  too  late  for 
Nk.,  this  is  further  proof  for  the  position  of  T.  and  Nk. ; 
(d)  Par.  is  common  with  Ch.,  Nk.  in  two  instances:  nature; 
cock  is  prophet  of  the  hours;  and,  as  one  motif,  nature,  is 
not  found  in  Vg.,  it  must  have  come  in  through  the  influence 
of  Nk. ;  (e)  Ch.  accords  with  Nk.  in  four  traits:  nature; 
raven  prophesies;  cock  tells  hours  of  the  night;  nature  gave 
not  all  to  one;  two  of  which  are  not  in  Vg.,  F. :  natures- 
nature  gave  not  all  to  one.  Nk.  has  a  concluding  elegiac 
distich:  Torqueri  nos  ista  bonis  prohibent  alienis,  Et  bona 
sufficient  ut  sua  cuique  monent,  which  is  repeated  in  Ch. 

Steinhowel,  c.  1475  (S).  This  version19  is  connected 
with  the  group  W.,  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  There  are  two  versions  of 
S.,  one  in  Latin  and  the  other  in  German  (G.).  S.  agrees 
with  W.,  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  in  fifteen  motifs;  with  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  in 
but  six :  color;  cauda  gemme;  visus  superat  vocem;  forma 
superat  lusciniam;  grus  ostendit  tempus;  nudus  volat  sero 
vespertilio.  S.,  Vg.,  F.  are  the  same  in  that  the  givers  are 
the  gods;  then  fabula  narrat,  or  probat;  luscinia  cantus  vocis; 
S.,  W.,  Vg.,  F.  have  a  similar  introduction;  S.,  Vg.  have 
pictisque  plumis;  S.,  Vg.,  Vn.  agree  in  the  ending.  The  S. 
version  does  not  agree  alone  with  any  motif  in  W.,  conse- 
quently the  motifs  in  the  group  W.,  Vg.,  F.,  Vn.  fall  in 
with  the  group  Vg.,   F.,  Vn.     As  we  have  separated  Vg. 

"  H.  Oesterley,  Steinhowels  Aesop.  Tubingen,  Bibl.  des  Litt.  Ver- 
eins  zu  Stuttgart,  cxvn,  1873;  pp.  175-176.  The  title  of  the  German 
version  is  "  Die  IV  iabel  von  dem  pfawen,  der  gotin  und  nachtgallen." 


340  CURDY  [12 

and  F.,  and,  as  there  is  no  evidence  in  the  motifs  here 
considered  to  disprove  the  correctness  of  this  procedure, 
it  leaves  S.  in  agreement  with  Vg.,  F.  in  a  large  number 
of  instances.  But  S.  agrees  with  Vg.  in  one  additional 
motif:  Nullus  similis  tibi;  hence  it  is  out  of  Vg.  S.  adds 
no  motifs  to  Vg.,  but  it  changes  one:  the  crane  is  made  to 
brood  in  the  olive  tree  instead  of  the  thrush,  as  in  other 
versions.  Jacobs  says20  that  Heinrich  Steinhowel  brought 
together  in  his  Aesop  the  four  books  of  the  Romulus,  prose 
versions  of  Phaedrus,  and  selections  from  other  collections, 
and  seventeen  from  a  collection,  the  source  of  which  has 
never  been  determined,  the  Fabulae  Extravagantes,  contained 
in  the  Breslau  manuscript  of  Petrus  Alphonsus.  It  would 
seem  that  our  fable  belongs  to  the  class  just  mentioned,  and 
which  is  shown  to  be  Vg.  Steinhowel's  German  version  is 
considered  incidentally  under  Par.  and  Ch.  It  is  essentially 
the  same  as  the  Latin  version. 

Fabulae  Metricae,  c.  1125  (Me)  and  F.  Rhythmicae,  c. 
1250  (Rh).  These  two  versions21  offer  no  difficulty,  as  their 
agreements  with  Ni.  are  apparent.  The  only  question  is  in 
regard  to  the  motif  sad,  which  they  have  in  common  with 
T.,  and  which  has  been  explained  in  the  treatment  of  T. 

Marie  de  France,  c.  1175  (Mar).  The  fable  in  Marie 
gives  us  only  a  slight  clue  by  which  we  may  hope  to  determine 
the  store  from  which  she  drew.  The  motifs  belonging  to 
Mar.  are  to  be  found  scattered  among  the  earlier  versions. 
Ni.  contains  the  largest  number,  and  these  in  Mar.  agree 
more  nearly  in  wording  with  Ni.  than  they  do  with  those 
in  other  versions.     Marie's  fable  is  as  follows :  " 

30  The  Fables  of  Aesop  as  first  printed  by  William  Caxton  .  .  . 
London,  1889;  I,  p.  185. 

"Hervieux,  n,  pp.  702-703;  II,  p.  745. 
"Warlike,  Fabeln,  pp.  108-109. 


13]        FABLE  OF  THE  PEACOCK  AND  JUNO        341 

Uns  potins  fu  forment  iriez 
vera  sei  meisme  e  curuciez 
de  eeo  que  tel  voiz  nen  aveit 
cum  a  lui,  ceo  dist,  avendreit. 
A  la  deuesse  le  mustra, 
e  la  dame  li  demanda 
s'il  n'ot  asez  en  la  bealte 
dunt  el    1 'aveit   si   aiirne; 
de  pennes  l'aveit  fet  plus  bel 
que  ne  veeit  nul  altre  oisel. 
Li   potins   dist  qu'il   se  cremeit, 
de  tuz  oisels  plus  vils  esteit 
pur  ceo  que  ne   sot  bien  chanter. 
Ele  respunt:   "Lai  mei  ester! 
Bien  te  deit  ta  bealtez  suffire." 
"  Nenil,"  fet  il,  "bien  le  puis  dire: 
quant   li    russignolez    petiz 
a   meillur  voiz,  jeo  sui  huniz." 

Marie  adds  to  other  motifs  deuesse,  dame,  goddess  as  giver; 
question  whether  beauty  is  not  sufficient;  fear;  uglier  than 
other  birds;  let  me  be.  Exclusive  of  these  features,  Mar., 
in  the  briefness  and  directness  of  her  narration,  stands 
nearer  to  Ni.  than  to  any  other  version  or  group  of  versions. 
The  expressions  I  cannot  sing;  had  not  such  a  voice,  and 
the  traits  given  above  are  not  present  in  Ni.,  nor  are  they 
in  the  Vg.  group.  In  Ni.  form  is  superior  to  nightingale 
takes  the  place  of  beauty  of  feathers,  and  doleo  that  of 
cremeit.  On  the  other  hand  J  cannot  sing  appears  in  the 
representatives  of  the  Vg.  group,  and  is  absent  from  Ni., 
but  nightingale  has  better  voice  appears  only  in  T.  of  the  Vg. 
group.  This  would  indicate  either  that  the  English  version 
which  Marie  translated,  that  of  Alfred  of  England,23  was 
slightly  influenced  by  some  version  of  the  Vg.  group,  or 
that  Marie  herself  saw  or  heard  a  version  of  the  fable  which 

"Marie  states  in  her  epilogue  that  she  translated  the  fables 
from  the  English.  For  a  discussion  of  this  and  of  Mall's  assertion 
that  the  source  of  the  first  forty  fables  (the  present  one  included) 
is  Ni.,  see  Warnke,  Festgabe  fur  Stickler,  Halle,  1900;  p.  162;  and 
ZRPh.,  ix,  pp.  161,  165,  188  ft*. 


342  cukdt  [14 

belonged  to  the  Vg.  group,  and  thus  introduced  these  elements. 
Ph.  and  Vg.  are  the  only  versions  which  contain  all  of  these 
additional  motifs.  T.  has  two:  timeo  and  desiste,  both  of 
which  express  ideas  contained  in  Mar.  and  not  found  in  any 
other  redactions  of  the  Vg.  or  Ni.  groups.  T.  is  of  the 
same  period  as  Mar.,  and,  unless  these  are  accidental  simi- 
larities, it  is  possible  that  this  may  be  taken  as  evidence 
that  the  T.  ideas  were  conveyed  to  Marie,  and  that  they 
probably  were  not  in  Alfred.  It  is  thus  certain,  that  the 
fable  of  Mar.  should  be  placed  under  Ni.,  with  the  influence 
of  a  6ide  version.  Besides  the  similarity  of  motifs  in  Mar. 
and  Ni.,  the  character  of  the  narration  in  both  versions  is 
much  alike,  both  being  short,  terse  in  statement,  beginning 
and  ending  abruptly.  It  is  to  be  noticed  that  the  intro- 
duction in  Ni.  is  lacking  in  Mar. 

Biccardiano,  c.  1325  (Ri)  u  ;  Isopo  Laurenziano  i,  c.  1375 
(L);25  Palatino  I,  c.  1425  (Pal.).26  These  three  versions 
agree  among  themselves  in  nearly  all  their  motifs.  Ri.  has 
more  song  to  the  nightingale,  which  is  not  in  the  others.  The 
remaining  motifs  are  scattered  among  the  other  versions; 
the  only  one  occurring  extensively  is  the  motif  sad.  The 
three  Italian  fables  have  a  common  source,  but  the  paucity 
of  evidence  as  to  their  agreement  with  previous  versions  allows 
us  slight  opportunity  to  reach  a  definite  decision  regarding 
their  position  in  our  scheme.  Warnke  discusses  2T  these  col- 
lections and  their  relations  to  Mar.  and  T.,  and  concludes 
that  they  are  direct  literal  translations  of  Mar.28     This  state- 

94  L.  Rigoli,  Volgarizzamento  delle  Favole  di  Esopo.  Testo  Ric- 
cardiano,  Firenze,  1818,  pp.  85-86;   fable  40. 

* "  Del  Paone  che  ssi  ramarica  alia  Natura  della  Bocie  e  de 
Piedi  rustichi,  domandando  volere  essere  anzi  uno  Lusigniuolo.  M.  P. 
Brush,  Isopo  Laurenziano.     Columbus,  1899;  pp.  167-168;  cap.  xix 

28 "  II  Pagone  si  mirava  le  penne  e  poi  i  piedi."  Favole  di  Esopo 
in  Vulgare.     Lucca,  1864;   pp.  91-92;  xxxxi. 

21  Fabeln,  p.  lxxv  ff. 

"Brush,  Isopo  Laurenziano.  Columbus,  1899;  pp.  43  ff.,  takes  the 
L.  collection  from  a  particular  manuscript  of  Mar. 


15]        FABLE  OF  THE  PEACOCK  AND  JUNO        343 

ment  does  not  apply  to  the  fable  which  we  are  considering. 
The  versions  may  have  been,  and  probably  were,  inspired  by 
Marie's  tale,  but  a  synopsis  of  EL,  the  oldest-  of  the  three, 
will  refute  Warnke's  statement  as  concerns  our  fable. 

The  title  of  Hi.  is  "  Del  paone  che  si  guatava  le  penne." 
A  peacock  is  admiring  his  feathers,  is  delighted  at  his 
beauty,  hears  a  nightingale  sing,  is  grieved  because  he  thought 
himself  the  handsomest  bird  in  the  world,  but  now  his 
beauty  is  nothing  because  he  cannot  sing.  He  goes  to  Nature 
in  an  angry  mood,  complains  that  more  has  been  given  to 
the  nightingale  than  to  himself.  Nature  replies  that  she 
had  given  him  the  most  beautiful  feathers  in  the  world. 
The  peacock  responds :  "  What  good  is  that  to  me  if  I 
cannot  sing,  and  if  my  feet  disturb  me  so,  that  every  time 
I  look,  I  am  ashamed  ?  " 29  Nature  orders  him  away  with 
the  remark  that  his  beauty  is  sufficient,  and  that  she  does  not 
wish  him  to  be  other  than  he  is.  Then  follows  the  moral, 
that  every  one  is  discontented  with  what  he  has,  and  can  not 
bear  to  see  another  have  more. 

Bozon,  c.  1325  (Bo);30  Harleianus,  c.  1375  (H)  31 ;  and 
the  motifs  sad  and  angry.  Two  motifs  which  are  important  in 
the  genealogy  of  these  versions  are  sad  and  angry.  Sad  is 
represented  by  the  expressions  triste  in  Me.,  doleo  in  Ni., 
doleas  in  Ph.,  mcestas  in  Nk.,  T.,  duel  demenoit  in  Par., 
lamantanente  in  L.,  sorrowful  and  heavy  in  Cax.  Angry 
is  represented  by  indigno  ferens  in  Ph.,  S.,  indignans  in  Me., 
Vg.,  Ni.,  F.,  iratus  in  Me.,  Vg.,  F.,  W.,  Vn.,  S.,  turbatus 

"The  remark  about  the  ugly  feet  occurs  only  in  the  three  Italian 
versions.  It  is  borrowed  from  the  bestiaries;  see  Goldstaub  und 
Wendriner,  Ein  Tosco-Venezianischer  Bestiarius.     Halle,  1892,  p.  342. 

■ "  Contra  proximos  contempnentes."  L.  T.  Smith  —  P.  Meyer, 
Contes  moralises  de  Nicole  Bozon.  Paris,  SATF.,  1889,  p.  24,  §18; 
See  P.  W.  Harry,  A  Comparative  Study  of  the  Aesopic  Fable  in 
Nicole  Bozon.     Cincinnati,   1905;    pp.   23-25. 

w "  Pavo  et  Predestinacio."  Nicolai  Bozon  Exempla  Qucedam. 
Hervieux,  rv,  p.  258. 


344  curdy  [16 

in  Eh.,  graviter  ferens  in  Vn.,  gravabatur  in  H.,  iriez 
in  Marie.  Ch.,  B.,  G.,  Wk.  have  complaint,  and  Wk.  has 
ic  sterve  van  rowen.  These  stand  nearer  to  sad  than  to  angry. 
It  will  be  noticed  that  some  of  the  versions  have  more  than 
one  of  the  expressions.  The  following  scheme  shows  the 
occurrence  of  the  motifs  in  the  Prim,  and  Ni.  groups: 

Sad— Brim,  group:  T.,  Par.,  Nk.,  G.,  St.,  Ch.,  Bo.,  Cax.; 
Ni.  group :  Me.,  Nl,  Eh.,  L. 

Angry— Prim,  group :  Ph.,  S.,  Vg.,  F.,  W.,  Vn.,  H.,  Wk. ; 
Ni.  group :  Me.,  Ni.,  Eh.,  Mar.,  Ei.,  Pal. 

Sad,  which  was  not  in  Ph.  (nor  W.),  started  later,  prob- 
ably in  Euf.,  thence  going  into  Ni.  and  Me.;  also  going 
into  Prim.,  from  which  version  it  went  into  X.  and  derivatives. 
As  sad  is  not  in  our  Vg.,  which  is  here  called  Vg.  I,  and 
it  is  in  Bo.,  Nk.,  Par.,  T.,  Ch.,  Cax.,  a  new  common  source 
may  be  posited  and  called  Vg.  II.  This  means  that  from 
version  X,  out  of  Prim.,  were  copied  two  versions,  Vg.  I, 
which  we  possess,  and  Vg.  II,  of  which  we  have  no  mention, 
possibly  lost.  This  Vg.  II  must  have  contained  all  the  motifs 
common  to  Vg.  I  and  those  versions  which  we  have  proved 
to  be  out  of  Vg.  I,  and,  in  addition,  it  must  have  contained 
motif  sad,  which  is  common  to  Bo.,  Nk.,  T.,  Par.,  and  Cax. 
T.  cannot  be  an  immediate  source  for  Bo.,  Nk.,  Wk.,  S.,  as 
T.  has  not  gods;  to  whom  it  is  given;  let  it  be  used;  form; 
color;  beauty;  like  a  gem;  like  an  emerald,  which  are  com- 
mon to  several  of  the  versions;  nor  are  Nk.,  Wk.  singly  out 
of  T.,  as  T.  has  not  the  Nk.  motifs:  beauty,  which  is  in  S., 
Wk. ;  color,  which  is  in  S.;  like  a  gem  (like  an  emerald  in 
S.,  Cax.);  nor  the  Wk.  motifs:  nightingale  sings;  (also  in 
Cax.,  S.) ;  beauty,  which  is  in  G.,  S;  (in  Nk.,  S.  it  is  form). 
Bo.  may  be  out  of  T.,  because  they  have  in  common  sad; 
peacock  cannot  sing;  more  song  to  nightingale,  which  are  not 
in  Vg.,  Vn.,  F.,  W.,  nor  in  Ni.  Thus  Bozon  may  be  out  of 
a  version  or  a  rehandling  of  T.,  and  H.  is  parallel  to  Bo., 
except  that  it  omits  neck  shines  and  has  painted  feathers,  and 


17]  FABLE    OF    THE     PEACOCK    AND    JUNO  345 

adds  beauty  of  feathers.  Hence,  Bo.,  and,  after  it,  H.,  are 
out  of  T.32 

Machault,  c.  1484,  and  Caxton,  1484  (Cax).    The  Machault 

collection  33  is  not,  for  the  moment,  accessible  to  the  "writer, 
and  so  it  is  necessary  to  accept  Jacobs'  statement,34  that  Cax- 
ton translated  his  version  3B  from  Jules  Machault,  who  trans- 
lated it  from  Steinhbwel.  The  agreement  of  Caxton  and 
Steinhbwel  indicates  that  the  French  original  of  Caxton 
mentioned  in  the  title  of  Caxton's  work  is  also  directly  con- 
nected with  S. ;  hence,  the  absence  of  the  French  link  is  of 
no  great  moment.36  Caxton,  however,  omits  several  motifs 
which  are  found  in  S. :  prophecy  by  the  nightingale ;  gemmed 
tail;  blackbird,  swallow,  bat,  cock.  These  may  be  absent 
also  from  the  French  redaction.37 

The  comparison  of  motifs  given  above  and  the  summary 
which  follows  serve  to  show  the  relationship  and  interdepen- 
dence of  the  collections  cited.  It  will  be  seen  that  they  can  be 
divided  into  groups,  and  subdivided  into  still  smaller  groups. 
Yet  hundreds  of  years  after  the  primitive  division,  we  find 
a  version  in  one  group  showing  direct  influence  on  one 
belonging  to  an  entirely  different  group.     It  is  such  cross- 

"  Harry,  op.  cit.,  pp.  23  ff.,  proposes  the  possible  influence  of  Mar., 
or  of  some  oral  tradition  resembling  that  version. 

**  Les  subtitles  fables  de  esope  avec  eelles  de  auian  de  alfonce  et  de 
poge  ftorentin  .  .  .  lequel  a  este  translate  de  latin  en  fracois  par 
.  .  .  frere  iulien  des  augustins  de  lyon.  Lyon,  Mathis  Hucz,  1484. 
He-vieux,  iv,  pp.  403-406,  attributes  the  first  edition  to  a  date  an- 
terior to  1480. 

**Op.  cit.,  I,  p.  4. 

85 "  The  fourth  fable  is  of  Juno  the  goddesse  and  of  the  pecock  and 
of  the  nyghtyngale."  The  Fables  of  Aesop  as  first  printed  by 
William  Caxton  in  1484  .  .  .  now  again  edited  and  induced  by 
Joseph  Jacobs.     London,   1889;   II,  p.   105;   Liber  quartus,  Fable  4. 

"The  writer  intends  to  republish  the  Machault  collection  in  the 
near  future. 

"This  ends  the  list  of  collections  which,  so  far  as  the  writer  has 
been  able  to  determine,  contain  the  fable  in  question,  nor  are 
parallels  to  it  found  in  the  many  other  collections  he  has  examined. 
No  effort  has  been  made  to  include  stray  occurrences  of  the  fable. 


346  curdy  [18 

relations  as  these  that  make  it  imperative  for  the  student  of 
medieval  fable  collections  to  examine  the  relations  and  motifs 
of  the  individual  fables. 

In  conclusion,  the  relations  of  the  variant  versions  of 
this  fable  may  be  summarized  historically  as  follows:  Phae- 
drus  (c.  25)  is  followed  by  Eomulus  Primitivus  (c.  900), 
through  *Aesopus  ad  Eufum  (c.  850,  lost).  Weissenburgen- 
sis  (c.  925)  branches  from  Primitivus,  and  is  continued 
by  the  copy  of  1050.  After  Weissenburgensis,  and  out  of 
Primitivus,  we  have  a  group  containing  *Vindobonensis  (c. 
1050,  lost)  and  a  later  copy,  Vienna  Codex  303  (c.  1350) 
as  one  branch;  and  a  group  having  Vulgaris  (c.  950)  and 
a  posited  *Vulgaris  II,  which  is  the  predecessor  of  Trevirensis, 
Neckam,  Florentinus,  Te  Winkel,  and  Steinhowel.  Treviren- 
sis (c.  1175)  gave  Bozon  (c.  1325)  and  Harleianus  (c.  1375). 
Neckam  (c.  1215),  influenced  by  Trevirensis,  give  rise  to 
Ysopet  de  Chartres  (c.  1250)  and  Ysopet  II  de  Paris  (c. 
1350).  Steinhowel  (Latin  and  German,  both  c.  1475)  is  the 
parent  of  a  large  number  of  European  versions,  two  of  which, 
Machault  (c.  1484)  and  Caxton  (1484),  are  in  the  period 
which  is  treated  here.  From  a  version  occurring  between 
Eufus  and  Primitivus,  another  group  "was  formed,  having 
Nilant  (c.  1050)  as  its  earliest  representative,  which,  in  turn, 
furnished  the  material  for  a  line  of  versions  consisting  of  an 
♦Anglo-Norman  version  (c.  1100,  lost),  *Alfred  of  England 
(c.  1150,  lost),  and  Marie  de  France  (c.  1175).  Marie, 
who  shows  in  this  fable  the  influence  of  Trevirensis,  was  the 
inspiration  for  the  Italian  version,  *Isopo  Italiano  (c.  1300, 
lost),  and  the  latter  was  the  precursor  of  Eiccardiano  (c. 
1325)  on  the  one  hand,  and,  on  the  other,  of  *Isopo  Lauren- 
ziano  (c.  1350,  lost),  which  served  as  the  model  for  Lauren- 
ziano  I  (c.  1375)  and  Palatino  I  (c.  1425).  Florentinus 
(c.  1250)  and  Te  Winkel  (c.  1275)  have  no  successors  in  the 
period  included  in  this  study,  as  far  as  is  known  to  the  writer. 
Fabulae  Metricae  (c.  1125)  and  Fabulae  Eythmicae  (c.  1250) 
appear  to  have  been  derived  from  a  version  preceding  Nilant, 
and  they  have  left  no  successors. 


THE  YSOPET  OF  JEHAN  DE  VIGNAY 

EDITED    BY 

Guy  E.  Snavely 


The  collection  of  ^Esopic  fables  here  published  for  the 
first  time  is  found  in  the  Mireoir  Historial  of  Jehan  de 
Vignay,  who  nourished  in  the  early  part  of  the  fourteenth 
century  and  who  was  a  very  popular  literary  man  at  the 
court  of  the  first  Valois  kings.  He  translated  into  French 
some  twelve  historical  and  religious  works,  of  which  the 
most  famous  are  the  Legende  Doree  of  Jacques  de  Varazze, 
the  Livre  des  Eschez  of  Jacques  de  Cessoles,  and  the  Mireoir 
Historial  of  Vincent  de  Beauvais. 

The  last-mentioned  work  is  a  long  treatise  in  four  folio 
manuscript  volumes  giving  a  general  survey  of  the  history 
of  the  world.  Vincent  de  Beauvais  in  treating  of  early  Greek 
history  interpolates  this  collection  of  fables  after  a  brief 
reference  to  iEsop. 

There  are  known  to  be  extant  some  forty-one  manuscripts 
containing  portions  of  this  work,  and  the  collection  of  fables 
is  found  in  nine  of  them.1  The  text  here  given  is  taken 
from  ms.  fr.  316  of  the  Bibliotheque  Rationale  in  Paris, 
which  is  by  far  the  oldest  and  best  manuscript.  In  fact  it 
is  probably  the  copy  made  in  1333  for  Queen  Jeanne  de 
Bourgogne  herself.  In  the  footnotes,  however,  there  are 
given  all  the  variants  showing  differences  of  meaning  found  in 

1  For  a  more  detailed  account  of  Jehan  de  Vignay  and  his  works 
see  Guy  E.  Snavely,  The  Msopvc  Fables  in  the  Mireoir  Historial 
of  Jehan  de  Vignay.     Baltimore,  1908  (Johns  Hopkins  Dissertation). 

1]  347 


348  SNAVELY  [2 

the  other  eight   manuscripts.     The   abbreviations  employed 
refer  to  the  following  manuscripts: 

A  =  ms.  434,  Bibl.  Municipale,  Besangon.  (1372) 

B  =  ms.  Vossianus  gallicus,  folio  3  A,  Universiteits- 

Bibliotheek,  Leiden  (ca.  1345) 

C  =  ms.   Royal   14   E.   i,   British   Museum,    London 

(ca.  1500) 
D  =  ms.  fr.  50,  Bibl.  Rationale,  Paris  (ca.  1460) 

E  =  ms.  fr.  308,  Bibl.  Nationale,  Paris  (1455) 

F  =  ms.  fr.  312,  Bibl.  Rationale,  Paris  (1396) 

H  —  ms.  fr.  6354,  Bibl.  Nationale,  Paris        (ca.  1450) 
I  =  ms.  Beg.  538,  Bibl.  Vaticana,  Eoma         (ca.  1455) 

MlREOIE    HlSTORIAL. 

(Liv.  iv,  ch.  2-8). 

De  Esope  et  de  ses  fables  faintes  moralement  con- 
tre  les  malicieus  envieux  :  h 

[Prologue] 

En  Pan  du  regne  Cyre  premier,  Esope  est  occis  de 
Delphins.  L'aucteur.  Les  fables  de  Esope  sont  nobles  et 
renommees  les  queles  Romulus  un  Grec  estrait  de  grec  en 
latin  et  les  envoia  a  son  filz  Tyberim,  escrivant  ainsi: 
5  "  De  la  cite  de  Atice,  Esope,  un  homme  grec  et  engigneus, 
enseigne  ses  sergens  quel  chose  les  hommes  doivent  garder. 
Et  a  fin  que  il  devise  et  demonstre  la  vie  des  hommes 
et  les  meurs,  il  amaine  a  ce  arbres,  oysiaus  et  bestes, 
parlans  a  prouver  chascune  fable.  Et  ceste  chose  ie, 
10  Romulus,  tresportai  de  grec  en  latin.  Et  certes,  filz 
Tyberin,  se  tu  les  lises  et  les  apercoives  a  plain  courage 
tu  trouveras   jeux  dedenz  mis  qui  te  feront  rire  et  te 


3]  THE   YSOPET   OF   JEHAN   DE  VIGNAY  349 

aviveront   ton  enging."     Veez   ci  l'essample   contre   les 
malicieus. 

(Heading)  DH  des  for  de  ses;  DF  sainctes  for  faintes;  CDEI 
omit  contre  les  malicieus  envieux;  H  malicieus  et;  A  adds  estraites 
de  grec  en  latin;  C  le  lie  chapitre;  F  omits  II.  —  (Prologue)  1. 
H  ou  premier  an  for  en  .  .  .  premier;  BCEH  fut  for  est;  BF  des; 
C  omits  de.  —  2.    C  omits  nobles  et.  —  3.     DH  escripst  for  estrait. 

—  5.  CDEHI  omit  de  Atice;  I  un  homme  Esope;  A  omits  grec; 
DH  greigneur  for  engigneus.  —  6.  D  ensigne  de;  H  a  l'instruction 
de  for  enseigne;  B  les  for  ses;  H  serviteurs  for  sergens;  DI  quelles 
choses.  —  7.     CDEHI  des  for  les.  —  8.     C.  omits  et  bestes  parlans. 

—  9.  B  flabe  for  fable;  I  omits  ceste  chose.  —  10.  F  le  translatay, 
H  ay  translate1  for  tresportai;  H  mon  filz. — 11.  CE  et  tu;  I 
omits  second  les ;   H   de   for   a.  —  12.     H  mis   dedens ;    H  omits   te. 

—  13.  ACDEI  esmouveront,  H  aguiseront;  A  omits  veez  .  ... 
essample;  I  et  veez;  BCE  ve;  DEH  omit  ci;  H  omits  1';  F  encontre. 


[I.     Wolf  and  Lamb] 

II  faint  que  l'aignel  et  le  loup,  qui  avoient  soif,  vin- 
drent  a  un  ruissel  de  diverses  parties,  Fun  de  amont, 
l'autre  de  aval.  Le  lou  bevoit  en  haut  et  l'aingnel  bien 
loing  au  bas.  Et  quant  le  lou  vit  l'aignel  il  dist  ainsi: 
5  "  Tu  as  trouble  l'yaue  a  moy  bevant."  Et  l'aignel 
souff  rant  dist :  "  Comment  t'ay  je  l'yaue  troublee  qui 
acourt  de  toy  a  moy  ? "  Et  le  loup  dist :  "  Tu  me  dis 
mal."  Et  dist  l'aignel :  "  Je  ne  te  di  nul  mal."  Et  dist 
le  lou :  "  Ton  pere  vraiement  me  dist  et  monstra  mout 
10  de  maux."  Et  la  fin  de  leur  estrif  le  lou  dist  a 
voiz  despiteuse :  "  Et  encore  paries  tu  a  moy,  larron  ?  " 
Et  tantost  il  s'embati  contre  li  et  tua  l'aignel  innocent. 

1.  A  adds  example  de  l'aignel  et  du  lou;  I  omits  qui  avoient 
soif.  —  2.  I  vindrent  boire.  —  3.  B  et  l'autre;  DH  et  le  lou; 
I  d'en;  CH  amont  for  en  haut;  B  le  lou  for  l'aingnel;  F  repeats 
bevoit  after  l'aingnel.  —  4.  CDEHI  en  for  au;  H  lui  escria  for 
dist  ainsi.  —  5.  H  pourquoi  me  troubles  tu  mon  eaue  for  tu  .  .  . 
bevant.  —  6.    I  ce  souff  rant;  H  pacient  for  souff  rant,  H  lui  respond  i 


350  SNAVELY  [4 

for  dist;  I  et  comment;  CEI  omit  t';  H  la  troubleroie  for  t'ay 
.  .  .  troublee.  —  7.  H  je  puis  quelle  iront  for  qui  acourt;  B 
court.  —  8.  H  injure  for  mal;  H  lui  dist;  H  chose  qui  te  doye 
desplaire  for  second  mal;  HI  lors  for  second  et;  H  lui  dist.  —  9. 
CEI  et  me;  H  fist  en  sa  vie  for  dist  et  monstra.  —  10.  I  mais 
for  et;  CDEHI  en  la.  —  11.  H  comment  oses  parler  for  et  encore 
paries;  H  que  tu  es  larron.  —  12.  C  omits  il;  F  se  combati  a 
for  s'embati  centre;  D  il  se  embati  contre  l'aignel  et  le  tua;  H  il  se 
print  au  corps  de  l'aignel  le  saisi  tua  et  menga  for  il  .  .  .  innocent. 

[II.     Mou6e,  Frog  and  Kite] 

Contre  ceulz,  certes,  qui  appareillent  aguez  au  profit 
et  au  salu  des  autres  destruire,  il  faint  que  la  souriz, 
qui  vouloit  passer  un  fleuve,  requist  l'aide  de  la  raine 
et  la  raine  prist  un  gros  fil  et  lia  a  la  souriz  et  a 
5  son  pie  et  commenga  a  noer.  Et  el  milieu  du  neuve 
la  raine  se  plunga.  Et  si  comme  l'autre  se  tenist  forci- 
blement  sus  l'yaue,  une  escoufle  voloit  sus  l'yaue  et  prist 
la  souriz  a  ses  ongles  et  emporta  la  raine  pendante 
ensemble. 

1.     A  adds  exemple  de  la  rayne  et  de  la  souriz;  A  omits  aguez;  H  a 
leur  for  au.  —  2.     H  omits  au ;  H  pour  les  for  des ;  E  fault  for  faint. 

—  3.  F  d'une  for  de  la;  H  renoulle  for  raine.  —  4.  I  mais  for  et; 
C  omits  et  la  raine ;  BCDEHI  le  lia ;  H  omits  a  la ;  H  omits  souriz  et 
and  adds  after  pi6:  par  ung  bout  et  a  l'autre  a  la  gusue  de  la  souris. 

—  5.  I  oniits  et  commenga  a  noer;  F  puis  commenca;  ACDEF  ou 
for  el;  I  omits  et  .  .  .  plunga.  —  6.  I  mais  for  et;  H  ainsi  for  ei; 
FH  la  souris  for  l'autre;  H  tenoit  for  tenist;  D  fortement,  H  le 
plus  for  quelle  pouoit  for  forciblement ;  E  un.  —  7.  H  omits  second 
sus  l'yaue;  HI  qui  for  et.  —  8.  F  emporta  la  souris  et;  H  qui  pendoit 
a  elle  for  pendante  ensemble.  —  9.  A  adds  et  ainsi  fu  prise  et 
devoree  qui  cuidoit  la  souriz  noier. 

[III.     Dog  and  Shadow] 

Avec  ce   il  faint  contre  les  convoiteus  que  un  chien 
passant  un  fleuve  tenoit  une  piece  de  char  en  sa  bouche, 


5]  THE   YSOPET   OF   JEHAN   DE  VIGNAY  351 

et  si  comme  il  en  vit  l'ombre  en  l'yaue  il  cuida  que  ce 
fust  une  autre  piece  et  ouvri  la  bc-uche  pour  la  prendre, 
5  et  tantost  le  fleuve  emporta  eele  que  il  tenoit,  et  ne  pot 
avoir  cele  que  il  cuidoit  estre  souz  Pyaue.  Et  ainssi 
aucuns  qui  veult  avoir  Pautrui  pert  aucune  foiz  le  sien. 

1.  A  adds  exemple  du  chien  contre  les  convoiteus;  A  omits  ce 
and  contre  le9  convoiteus.  —  2.  H  qui  passoit  for  passant;  FH 
gueule  for  bouche.  —  4.  I  piece  de  char:  H  si  for  et;  H  gueule  for 
bouche.  —  5.  H  omits  le  fleuve  emporta;  H  tenoit  ala  au  fons; 
H  et  si.  —  6.  H  dont  for  que;  H  La  figure  estoit  for  il  cuidoit  estre; 
FH  en  for  souz;  H  semblablement  for  ainssi.  —  7.  CEI  omit 
aucuns;  DH  veulent;  I  cuide  for  vuelt;  CEI  il  pert,  DH  perdent; 
DH  le  leur,  F  le  leur  avec  la  vie  for  le  sien. 

[IV.     Lion's  Share] 

Dereohief  il  faint  contre  ceulz  qui  folement  se  acom- 
paignent  as  puissans  homines  que  la  vache  et  la  chievre 
et  la  brebis  furent  acompaigniees  ensemble  avec  le  lyon, 
et  si  comme  il  eussent  vene  es  bois  et  il  eussent  pris  un 
5  cerf,  les  parties  faites,  le  lyon  diet  ainsi:  "Je  pren  le 
premier  quar  ie  sui  lyon.  La  seconde  partie  est  moie 
quar  ie  sui  plus  fort  de  vous.  Et  la  tierce  ie  vous  defent 
car  g^i  ay  plus  couru  que  vous.  La  quarte  qui  y  atouchera 
il  m'ara  anemi."  Et  ainsi  par  sa  grant  mauvaistie  il 
10  ot  toute  la  proie. 

1.  ACDEHI  omit  il  faint;  B  compaignent.  —  2.  F  omits 
hommes;  CEI  il  faint  que;  H  omits  que;  CH  omit  et.  —  3.  H 
s'estoient  for  furent;  H  furent  ung  jour;  H  omits  ensemble.  —  4. 
CE  omit  si;  H  couroient  ensemble  parmi  ung  bois  ilz  chasserent 
ung  cerf  et  le  prindrent  for  eussent  ven6  .  .  .  un  cerf;  BCEI  au  for 
es;  CEI  omit  second  il.  —  5.  H  inserts  after  cerf:  et  fut  le  cerf 
mis  en  quatre  parties  afin  que  chacun  eust  la  sienne  et;  I  cerf  et; 
CEI  omit  second  le.  —  7.  que  for  de;  C  omits  et.  —  8.  DH 
omit  i;  I  le  plus;  I  omits  que  vous;  C  et  la,  F  a  la;  F  quarte 
partie;  CEI  la  for  y;  CDEHI  touchera.  —  9.  omit  il;  CDEHI  a 
anemi,  F  pour  anemi;   CEI  omit  grant. 


352  SNAVELY  [6 

[V.     Wolf  and  Crane] 

Et  done  faint  il  contre  ceulz  qui  aident  as  mauves 
folement,  et  dit  ceste  fable.  Si  comme  le  lou  devouroit 
les  os,  un  en  traversa  griefment  entre  ses  dens.  Le  lou 
promist  grant  pris  a  qui  eel  mal  osteroit,  et  prioit  la 
5  grue  au  col  lone  que  elle  li  donnast  medecine.  Tant  fist 
que  ele  mist  son  col  en  sa  bouche  et  li  osta  le  mal  de  la 
bouche  et  de  la  gorge.  Le  lou  gueri,  la  grue  demanda 
sa  promesse,  et  le  lou  li  dist :  "  0 !  comme  g'a  este  grant 
injure  as  vertus  de  moy  que  celle  grue  retrait  sa  teste 
10  saine  de  ma  gorge,  et  je  estoie  travaillie  les  dens,  et 
el  ne  m'en  scet  gre  et  demande  son  loier." 

1.  H  encores  for  et  done.  —  2.  H  malement  for  folement;  CE 
un  for  le;  C  lou  si.  —  3.  H  une  beste  l'un  les;  H  des  for  les; 
H  omits  un  en  and  inserts  se  rompit  en  sa  gueule  et;  BH  omit 
griefment;  H  par  entre;  H  dens  si  qu'il  ne  le  pouoit  avoir;  I  mais 
le.  —  4.  Dons  for  pris;  FH  celui  qui;  CH  pria.  —  5.  F  au  grant; 
ABCEH  lone  col,  F  col  et;  C  donnast  la;  F  alegance  for  medecine.  — 
6.  EI  lui  mist;  FH  gueule  for  bouche;  CEF  l'os,  H  eel  os,  I  oe 
mal  for  le  mal;  BCEFI  omit  de  la  bouche  et;  I  le  mal  e'est  a 
dire  l'os.  —  7.  H  guele  for  bouche;  CEI  sa  for  la;  CE  gorge 
qui  le  grevoit;  I  gorge  qui  lui  faisoit  mal;  F  omits  de  la  gorge 
and  adds  et  fu  gueri  et.  —  8.  C.  omits  et;  BI  omit  li;  B  dist 
a  li;  C  et  for  o.  —  9.  Ha  for  as  vertus  de;  H  ceste  for  celle; 
H  a  tire"  for  retrait.  —  10.  DH  omit  et;  H  avoie  for  estoie;  F  mes 
for  les;  H  omits  et.  —  11.  F  encore  for  el;  F  scet  elle;  H  et 
si;   B  omits  son;  F  de  for  son. 

De  ces  fables  meismes  contre  les  orgueilleus  et  pre- 
somptueus  de  vaine  gloire  :  OB 

[VI.     Fox  and  Eaven] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  s'esjoissent  de  estre  loez 
de  fausses  paroles  et  puis  e'en  repentent  il  faint  ceste  fable. 
Si  comme  un  corbel  avoit  pris  un  formage  par  aventure 
en  une  fenestre,  il  monta  sus  un  haut  arbre.     Et  quant 


7]  THE   YSOPET    OF    JEHAN   DE   VIGNAY  353 

5  le  gourpil  le  vit  de  terre,  il  dist  ainsi :  "  0  corbel  qui 
est  ce  que  soit  semblable  a  toi !  Comme  tu  es  bien  resplen- 
dissant  de  tes  pennes !  Quel  biaute  ce  fust  se  tu  eusses 
la  voiz  clere !  Nul  oysel  ne  fust  premier  de  toy."  Et 
ycelui  qui  li  voult  plaire  et  monstrer  plus  viguereusement 
10  sa  voiz  cria  haut  et  le  bee  ouvert  par  oubliance  geta 
hors  le  formage,  le  quel  le  gourpil  traitre  ravi  gloutement. 
Adonc  le  corbel  esbahi  gemi  et  fu  deceu  du  tout  en 
tout. 

(Heading)  CEHI  ce  for  ces  fables;  F  plains  de;  CEH  omit  de 
vaine  gloire.  —  1.  A  inserts  Exemple  du  corbel  et  du  regnart; 
BI  de  for  contre;  A  meismes  qui  —  2.  B  flabe  for  fable.  —  3.  H 
omits  si  comme.  —  4.  H  quelque  for  une;  H  a  tout  sus;  H  omits 
et  quant.  —  5.  E  un  for  first  le;  CH  ung  renard  for  le  gourpil; 
H  qui  estoit  a  for  de;  H  si  for  il;  CH  lui  dist;  H  omits  ainsi; 
I  tu  corbel;  H  quel  oisel  for  qui.  —  6.  H  ce  en  ce  monde;  DEHI 
qui  for  que;  CEF  est  for  soit;  D  semble;  A  omits  a  toi;  CH  omit 
comme;  H  as  tes  plumes  moult  for  es  bien.  —  7.  H  omits  de  tes 
pennes ;  D  plumes  for  pennes ;  CEI  fust  de  toy.  —  8.  Ce  plus 
beau,  H  acomparager  for  premier;  H  a  for  de;  I  mais  for  et.  —  9. 
CDEHI  omit  y;  H  le  corbel  for  celui;  BE  omit  li.  —  10.  CE  omit 
par;  I  oubli;  H  laissa  cheoir  for  geta  hors.  —  11.  H  formage 
a  terre;  H  et  for  le  quel;  I  omits  le  before  gourpil;  CH  renart 
for  gourpil;  H  l'emporta  et  le  devora  for  ravi.  —  12.  I  adonc  le 
gourpil  saisi  et;  H  demoura  esbahi  qui  par  la  fraude  du  renard  du 
for  esbahi  .  .  .  fu;    D   de  tout  en. 


[VII.     Sick  Lion] 

II  faint  une  fable  aussi  en  esmouvant  les  hommes  qui 
sont  en  dignitez  a  estre  debonnaires  en  ceste  maniere. 
Come  le  lyon,  greve  de  aage  et  ses  forces  defaillies,  se 
geust  et  traioit  au  derrenier  esprit,  un  cenglier  vint  a 
lui,  courroucie,  escumant  et  fronchant  ses  dens,  et  feri 
le  lyon  et  vencha  sa  vielle  haine.  Le  torel,  son  anemi, 
feri  le  lyon  a  ses  cornes.  Et,  quant  l'asne  sauvage  vit 
ce,  il  le  defoula  et  li  depieca  le  visage  a  ses  piez.     Et 

22 


354  SNAVELY  [8 

ycelui,  en  gemissant,  souspirant  dist :  u  Quant  je  estoie 
10  en  ma  vertu,  je  esto-ie  craint  et  honnore,  si  que  touz 
s'enfuioient  de  mon  regart,  et  cele  opinion  espoentoit 
pluseurs.  Et  ceulz  a  qui  je  sui  bien  veullant  et  qui  je  ne 
blecai  onques,  ceulz  me  font  mal.  Et  pour  ce  que  je  sui 
sanz  forces,  je  n'ai  nule  des  premiers  honneurs. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  du  lyon  et  du  cenglier;  B  flabe  for  fable; 
C  aussi  une  fable;  CEI  omit  en;  I  qui  esmuet  for  esmouvant.  —  2. 
H  estre  doulx  et.  —  3.  H  viel  et  greve;  CE  de  ses;  B  les  for  ses; 
H  omits  et  ses  forces;  CEH  omit  defaillies;  CE  omit  se.  —  4  C 
omits  geust  et;  H  malade  et;  A  has  trioit  before  traioit;  BE  traist; 
H  tiroit;  B  darrenier;  CE  derrain;  H  souspir  for  esprit.  —  5.  1 
lui  moult  lui;  H  et  escumant  fronchant;  H  les  for  ses;  EF  omit  et; 
C  si,  H  qui  for  et.  —  6.  D  en  vengant,  H  pour  soy  venger  for  et 
vencha;  C  la,  H  d'une  for  sa;  H  haine  qu'il  avoit  contre  lui;  I 
mais  le;  H  torel  aussi.  — >  7.  CEHF  de  for  a;  H  cornes  pour  soy 
venger  du  temps  passed  —  8.  I  foula;  B  son  for  le;  H  de  for  a.  — 
9  H  lors  le  lyon  for  ycelui;  CEI  celui  lyon;  CDEHI  et  souspirant, 
F  et  en  souspirant.  —  11.  DH  devant  for  de;  CEI  ma  voiz  for 
cele  opinion.  —  12.  H  maiz  for  first  et;  BCEI  fus,  H  ay  este"  for 
sui;  BCDEHI  que  for  qui.  —  13.  H  ilz  for  ceulz;  C  omits  que.  — 
14.     CDEH    force;    ABFHI   nulles,   CDE   nulz;    I   de   mes   for   des. 


[VIII.     Ass  and  Lap-Dog] 

De  rechief  il  faint  ceste  fable  contre  ceulz  qui  non 
convenablement  s'enbatent,  non  pas  dignes  as  meilleurs 
servises  et  offices.  Un  asne  si  veoit  chascun  jour  a  un 
chienet  joir  son  seigneur,  et  estoit  touz  les  jours  saoule 
5  de  sa  table,  et  que  la  mesniee  donnoit  au  ohiennet  pluseurs 
choses.  Et  l'asne  dist  ainsi :  "  Se  mon  seigneur  aime 
ainsi  une  tres  orde  beste,  et  li  et  sa  mesniee,  combien 
m'amera  il  miex,  se  je  li  fais  le  service.  Je  sui  meilleur 
d'un  chien.  Je  puis  user  de  meilleur  vie  et  avoir  trop 
10  greigneur  honneur."  Et  si  comme  l'asne  pensoit  ceu  en 
soy  meismes  il  vit  son  seigneur  entrer  ens,  et  li  courut 


9]  THE    YSOPET    OF    JEHAN    DE    VIGNAY  355 

encontre  hastivement  eriant  et  sailli  sus  et  mis  ses  deux 
piez  devant  sus  les  espaules  de  son  seigneur,  leschant 
son  maistre  a  la  langue  et  honissant  ses  vestements  et 
15  lassa  trop  son  seigneur  de  sa  pesanteur.  Et  toute  la 
mesnie  est  esmeiie  par  le  cri  du  seigneur  et  prennent 
fuz  et  pierres  et  batent  tant  l'asne  que  il  le  firent  tout 
foible  et  li  rompirent  les  costez  et  ainsi  le  chagent  en  le 
stable  demi  mort. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  de  l'asne  et  du  chienet;  B  omits  fable.  —  2. 
CEI  embatent,  DH  esbatent;  H  omits  non  pas;  I  point;  H  indignes. 
—  3.  A  omits  et  offices ;  CEH  omit  si ;  CDEHI  omit  a.  —  4.  CEI 
enjoyr,  H  faire  festes  for  joir;  FH  a  son.  —  5.  CEI  omit  que;  CEI 
mesniee  qui  lui,  H  mesniee  pour  faire  plaisir  au  seigneur;  CEI 
omit  au  chiennet.  —  6.  I  mas  for  et;  H  seigneur  et  ses  serviteurs; 
H  aiment.  —  7.  D  si;  BFHI  omit  first  et;  HI  omit  li;  H  omits 
et  sa  mesniee  and  inserts  de.  —  8.  H  doit  amer  moy  for  m'amera; 
H  qui  for  se  je;  F  et  li;  H  tant  de  for  le;  B  service  je  sui 
meilleur  d'un  chien  qui  sui  profitable  a  plusieurs  choses.  Je  sui 
norri  d'eaues  de  fonteinnes  nette  viande  m'est  donnee.  —  9.  ACDEI 
du,  H  que  n'est  le  for  d'un;  F  et  for  je;  D  je  ne,  H  doys  for  puis; 
I  vivre  for  user;  HI  omit  trop.  —  10.  F  honneur  que  lui;  H  ainsi 
for  et  si.  —  11.  H  si  for  et.  —  12.  Ha  l'encontre;  I  encontre 
moult;  C  haultement;  H  eriant  et  hullant;  CE  sus  lui;  F  les  deu; 
D  omits  deux.  —  13.  EH  piez  de;  D  1',  I  ses  for  les;  CI  omit 
de  son  seigneur;  HI  en  leschant;  C  omits  leschant.  —  14.  C  de 
son;  CDH  omit  a;  B  de  for  a;  CDH  omit  la  langue;  BEI  sa  for 
la;  D  vestements  en  la  langue,  H  vestements  de  sa  langue.  —  15. 
F  travaillant  for  lassa  trop;  DH  tant  for  trop;  B  omits  trop;  H 
maistre  for  seigneur;  H  pesanteur  qu'il  commenca  a  hucher  les 
ger.s  en  son  aide;  C  omits  toute;  H  tous  les  serviteurs  for  et  .  .  . 
mesnie.  —  16.  H  acourent  au  cry  for  est  ...  cri;  CE  fut  for 
est;  F  se  esmut  for  est  esmeue;  I  son  for  du;  CEH  prindrent, 
D  prennant,  F  pristrent,  I  prannent.  —  17.  CEF  bastons  for  fuz; 
DHI  omit  et;  H  des  pierres;  D  gectent  sus  et  batent;  H  gecterent 
contre  le  povre  asne  et  le  batent;  CEH  batirent;  H  omits  l'asne; 
CEHI  omit  le  .  .  .  foible  et.  —  18.  BD  rompent;  EH  les  os  et 
les;  CEI  omit  ainsi;  EI  Ten  for  le;  CEFHI  chasserent,  D  chassent; 
H  jusques  en.  —  19.     H  ou  ilz  le  laisserent  demi. 


356  SNAVELY  [10 

[IX.     Lion  and  Mouse] 

De  reehief  a  amonnester  que  nul  ne  mefface  as  petis, 
il  faint  ceste  fable  que  le  lyon  dormant  les  souriz  estoient 
en  gest  et  par  aventure  l'une  trespassa  par  dessus  li.  Et 
le  lyon,  esveillie  en  haste,  prist  la  chaitive  souriz  a  sa 
5  main  isnele.  Et  ele  li  prioit  merci,  car  ce  n'avoit  ele 
pas  fait  de  son  gre.  Le  lyon,  pensant  que  ce  seroit  de 
la  vengance  de  la  souriz  se  il  l'occioit,  ce  ne  li  seroit 
point  d'onneur,  si  la  lessa  aler  et  li  pardonna.  Un 
pou  apres,  le  lyon  cha'i  en  une  fosse.     Et  quant  il  se 

10  senti  pris  il  commenga  a  ruire  et  a  crier  a  grant  doleur. 
Et  quant  la  souriz  le  sot  elle  courut  a  li'  et,  la  chose 
veue,  elle  li  dist :  "  Ne  te  doute  pas.  Je  te  rendrai 
semblable  grace.  Je  n'ay  pas  oublie  le  bien  que  tu  me 
feis."     Et   done   commence   a   regarder-  touz  les   ars   de 

15  ce  piege,  et  a  rungier  les  liens  et  les  cordes  as  dens, 
et  a  despecier  les  engins  de  eel  art.  Et  ainsi  rendi  la 
souriz  franc  le  lyon  qui  estoit  pris. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  du  lyon  et  de  la  souriz;  H  il  amonneste  for 
a  amonnester;  H  tant  soit  grant  ne;  H  efface  ne  mesdye.  —  2.  H 
et  a  ce  propos  il;  BF  omit  ceste  fable.  —  3.  I  omits  et.  —  4.  H 
qua  la  sentit  for  esveilli6;  DH  omit  en;  DH  omit  haste;  H  omits 
chaitive;  H  souriz  soudainement ;  CD  en  for  a.  —  5.  H  pate  for 
main;  H  omits  isnele;  H  crioit  for  prioit;  H  omits  car  ce  n'avoit 
ele;  CE  que,  I  et  que  for  car;  C  omits  ele.  —  6.  H  omits  pas  .  .  . 
gre"  and  adds  disant  qu'elle  ne  pensoit  pas  a  lui  faire  aucune 
desplaisir;  I  point;  BF  quel  vengance  for  que;  I  seroit  moult; 
BCEHI  omit  de.  —  7.  B  omits  first  la;  CEI  petite,  H  grant  honte 
a  lui  de  prendre  for  first  la;  B  omits  vengance;  H  de  si  petite 
bastelete  et  que  for  de  la  souriz;  CEI  omit  se  il;  CEI  occire,  H  la 
tuoit  for  l'occioit;  CEI  omit  ce  ne  li  seroit;  BF  car  ce;  H  qu'il 
n'y  aroit  gueres  for  ce  ne  li  seroit  point.  —  8.  I  omits  si ;  CE 
il  for  si;  BF  omit  aler;  H  aler  pour  celle  foiz;  H  ne  demoura 
gueres  que  le  lyon  chay  et  fu  prins  for  un  pou  apres  le  lyon  chai.  — 
9.  CEI  dedens  une  roys  en;  H  piege  for  fosse;  CE  sentit  qu'il 
estoit  for  se  senti.  —  10.     BF  omit  first  a;  CEHI  braire  for  ruire; 


11]  THE    YSOPET    OF    JEHAN   BE  VIGNAY  357 

BCEI  omit  second  a  and  CEI  add  par.  —  11.  C  l'ouyt  for  le  sot; 
H  vers  for  a;  H  quant  elle  le  vit  en  eel  estat  for  la  chose  veue; 
C  omits  la  chose.  —  12.  CEI  veue  et  sceue;  D  veue  et;  E  omits  li; 
A  redoute  for  te  doute;  I  point  for  pas;  F  rendrai  sain  et.  —  13. 
I  car  je;  B  omits  ay;  I  point  for  pas.  —  14.  H  omits  et;  CDEHI 
commenca;  H  toutes,  I  tretous;  H  cordes  et  engins  for  ars.  —  15. 
H  et  commenca;  H  omits  second  et.  —  16.  B  omits  a;  C  cest 
for  eel;  H  mist  for  rendi;  BF  omit  la  souriz.  —  17.  H  en  franchise 
for  franc;  H  prisonnier  en  danger  de  miserablement  finir  sa  vie 
for   pris;    F   odds   au   piege. 

De  ce  meisme  contre  les  gloutons  enflez,  orgueil- 
leus  et  de  petit  sens  :  iv 

[X.     Dog  and  Thief] 

Encontre  les  gloutons  qui  a  un  disner  perdent  leur 
chose  ordena  il  ceste  fable.  Comme  un  larron  de  nuit 
eiist  donne  a  un  chien  du  pain,  le  chien  dist :  "  II 
m'est  donne  pour  grace.  Tu  me  le  donnes  pour  ce  que 
5  tu  me  decoives.  Se  tu  me  donnes  maintenant  pain  tu 
ne  le  donras  mie  apres  quant  je  arai  fain.  Je  ne  veul 
pas  tant  seulement  la  vie  presente,  mes  je  pourvoi  cele 
a  venir.  Je  ne  veul  pas  que  tu  does  mes  joes  par  ton 
pain,  mes  se  tu  ne  t'en  vas  je  abaierai  contre  toy  et 
10  esveillerai  mon  seigneur  et  sa  mesniee,  et  leur  dirai: 
"  C'es-t  un  larron." 

(Heading)  F  ESOPE  for  de  ce  meisme;  DI  omit  gloutons;  CDEI 
omit  enflez;  CE  omit  orgueilleus;  H  arrogans  for  orgueilleus;  CDEI 
omit  et  de  petit  sens.  (Fable  X)  A  inserts  Exemple  du  chien  et 
du  larron;  D  repeats  perdent;  H  le  leur.  —  2.  H  omits  chose; 
B  omits  fable;  H  omits  comme.  —  3.  H  donna  for  eust  donn6; 
H  une  grant  piece  de  for  du;  B  omits  le  chien  dist  il;  H  lui  dist; 
HI  le  pain  for  il;  I  il  si  —  4.  B  omits  m'est  donne"  pour  grace; 
A  de  for  pour;  HI  mais  tu;  C  a  fin,  H  pour  fraude  afin  for  pour  ce. 
—  5.  H  du  pain.  —  6.  BD  ne  me ;  CEHI  le  me ;  D  donnera,  CDEH 
pas,  I  point  for  mie;  H  tousjours  for  apres;  F  omits  apres.  —  7. 
CE  mie,  I  point  for  pas;  H  a  cele.  —  8.  I  point  for  pas;  DH  pour, 
I    de   for   par.  —  10.     F    mesniee    toute;    CH    dirai    que. 


358  SNAVELY  [12 

[XI.     Mountain  and  Mouse] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  sont  trop  espoentez  par 
vaines  nouvelles,  il  faint  ainsi :  Une  montaigne  si  en- 
fantoit  et  donnoit  trop  grans  gemissemens ;  et  toute  la 
nation,  quant  il  oi'rent  ce,  touz  furent  troublez  si  que  il  ne 
5  sorent  que  faire.  Et  en  la  fin  cele  montaigne  enfanta 
une  souriz,  si  que  le  mal  que  il  cuidoient  retourna  a  touz 
en  noient  a  ceulz  qui  avoient  eii  paour. 

1.  CEI  le  for  contre;  H  de  for  par.  —  2.  CE  omit  si.  — 
3.  H  tres  douloreux  for  trop  grans;  H  a  for  second  et.  —  4.  BF 
elle  for  il;  B  oi,  F  ouy  for  oirent;  H  omits  touz;  CEHI  ilz 
furent.  —  6.     F  ceuls  touz;   CDEHI  a  for  en.  —  7.     CDHI  neant. 

[XII.     Hares  and  Frogs] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  trop  petiz  ne  pueent  souffrir 
leur  estat,  il  ordene  ainsi.  Comme  une  grant  frainte  venist 
as  lievres  soudement,  il  pristrent  conseil  que  pour  les 
paours  continuees  il  se  tueroient  et  se  leroient  cheoir 
5  et  trebuchier.  Et  si  comme  il  vindrent  a  la  rive  d'un 
fleuve,  il  virent  mout  de  raynes  qui  la  estoient  qui  orent 
paour  d'eulz  et  se  geterent  el  flueve.  Et  quant  les  lievres 
virent  ce,  Fun  d'eus  dist :  "  Autres  que  nous  sont  paou- 
reus;  ensuions  nostre  vie  et  l'ensuions  comme  ces  autres 
10  que  qu'il  aviengne,  ne  il  ne  sera  pas  touz  temps  mal." 
Et  qui  ne  puet  souffrir  mal,  si  regarde  les  maus  des 
autres. 

1.  H  de  for  trop;  CEH  omit  ne;  H  se  desesperant  for  pueent 
souffrir;  I  souffrir  ne  endurer.  —  2.  C  dit  for  ordene;  H  une 
telle  for  ainsi;  H  feinte  for  comme;  H  frainte  de  gens;  H  survint 
en  ung  tropel  de  for  venist  as.  —  3.  H  si  s'en  fuirent  et  loinga 
for  il;  H  conseil  entre  eulx.  —  4.  H.  continuelles  qu'ilz  avoient 
for  continuees;  CEI  omit  se  .  .  .  trebuchier  and  insert  il  s'en 
yroient  de  leur  region  en  autre  pays;  F  il  pristrent  ordenance 
que  ilz.  —  5.     H  omits  si ;  H  pour  ce  faire  for  comme  il ;  Hen  ung 


13]  THE  YSOPET   OF    JEHAN  DE  VIGNAY  359 

estang  a;  H  duquel  for  d'un  fleuve.  —  6.  CEI  omit  qui  la  estoient. 
—  7.  si  grant  paour;  H  qu'ilz  for  et;  A  es,  CDEHI  ou  for  el; 
A  fleuves;  I  ces  for  les.  —  8.  CEI  aux  autres;  CEI  somes  for  sont; 
H  paoureus  aussi  bien  que  nous.  —  9.  C  et  ensuions;  H  nous 
maintenons  la  for  ensuions  nostre;  H  vie  Gu'avons  aeoustumee; 
CEFI  omit  et  l'ensuions;  H  le  temps  for  comme;  CDE  les  for  ces; 
H  omits  ces  autres  and  adds  je  loe.  —  10.  CEFHI  quoy  for  que; 
CEI  aviengne  et  nous  en  retournons;  CEI  car,  H  que  for  ne; 
H  omits  il  ne;  CE  fera  for  sera;  I  point  for  pas;  H  jours  for 
temps;  H  mauvais  for  mal.  —  11.  CEI  un  lien  for  et;  CEI  son 
mal;    CE  omit  si;    ACDEHI  le  mal  for  les  maus. 

[XIII.     Strange  Feathers] 

De  rechief  que  aucuns  ne  se  vante  des  estranges  dons, 
il  les  amonneste,  faignant  que  un  grant  corbel  si  avoit 
pris  les  pennes  d'un  paon  qui  estoient  cheoites,  et  en 
estoit  aorne  et  avoit  les  senes  en  despit,  et  se  mesla 
5  en  la  compaignie  des  paons.  Et  les  paons  li  vont  oster 
que  il  ne  le  cognoissoient  point  les  pennes  mout  vilaine- 
ment,  et  le  mordent  et  esgratinent  des  ongles,  et  le  chaitif 
delaissie  des  paons  demi  mort  doubta  arriere  aler  a  son 
propre  genre.  Car  comme  il  estoit  aorne  des  plus  beles 
10  plumes  estranges,  il  en  espoenta  pluseurs  injurieusement. 
Et  done  li  dist  un  de  ses  compaignons :  "  Se  tu  eiisses 
aime  la  vesteiire  que  nature  te  donna,  ee  te  souffisist, 
ne  tu  n'eusses  pas  souffert  l'injure  que  il  font  faite, 
et  si  ne  fusses  pas  deboute  de  nous. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  du  corbel  qui  prist  pennes  de  paon;  CEI 
omit  dons.  —  2.  A  nous  for  les;  CH  omit  les;  CEHI  omit  si.  — 
3.  CDEHI  plumes  for  pennes;  C  cheues  for  cheoites;  BCEFH  s'en 
for  en;  EI  et  il.  —  5.  I  mais  for  et;  B  les  li;  B  voldrent  for 
vont;  CEI  omit  li  vont  oster.  —  6.  H  pour  ce  que,  I  bien  que; 
CEI  estoit  qui  congneurent  for  le  cognoissoient;  CE  pas,  F  pour, 
I  mie  for  point;  CEI  point  de  leur  compaignie  (I  si)  lui  osterent; 
EI  ses  for  les;  C  omits  les  pennes;  DEHI  pJumes  for  pennes;  CEI 
omit  mout.  —  7.  C  ses  ongles  et;  CDEHI  mordirent,  F  bequent 
for   mordent;    C   et  1';    CDEHI   esgratinerent ;    CE    forment  des;    I 


360  SNAVELY  [14 

moult  griefment  des;  CEI  de  leurs  for  des.  —  8.  D  moult  for 
mort;  A  mort  il;  BF  sa  for  son.  —  9.  BF  nature  for  genre;  B  quant 
for  eomme;  B  s'estoit,  DH  fust  for  estoit;  CDEH  de  for  des;  BF 
omit  plus  beles;  A  pennes  et  beles.  —  10.  A  omits  en;  H  pluseurs 
si  le  villenerent  et  mutilerent.  —  11.  CE  omit  et;  B  vist  il  for 
dist;  C  des  for  de.  —  12.  CEI  et  for  ce.  —  13.  CEI  omit  ne; 
DHI  point  for  pas,  E  omits  pas. 


[XIV.     Stag  and  Antlers] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  meismes  qui  a  eulz  me'ismes 
loent  choses  non  profitables.  Le  cerf  bevant  a  la  fontaine, 
si  comme  il  vit  ses  comes  grans,  il  les  commenca  a 
loer  et  ses  cuisses  gresles  et  tenvres  a  blasmer.  Et 
5  comme  il  feist  ce,  il  oy  soudement  les  veneiirs  et  la 
vois  des  chiens  abaier,  et  s'en  eschapa  en  fuie  parmi 
un  champ.  Et  quant  il  entra  el  bois,  la  grandeur  de 
ses  comes  le  retint  si  que  les  veneiirs  le  pristrent.  Et 
done  il  voiant  sa  mort  dist :  "  Les  choses  qui  m'estoient 
10  profitables  je  blasmoie,  et  looie  les  nuisanz." 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  du  cerf;  BCFH  omit  meismes.  —  2.  F 
venant  for  bevant;  H  en  une  for  a  la.  —  5.  H  eust  fait  for 
feist.  —  6.  H  abaier  si;  H  tourna  fuiant  for  en  fuie.  —  7.  I  mais 
for  et;  ABCDEFHI  ou  for  el.  —  9.  C  ilui  for  il;  H  quant  vit 
for  voiant;   I  n'  for  m'. 


[XV.     Ant  and  Fly] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  se  loent  contencieusement. 
Le  formi  et  la  mousche  tengoient  aigrement  laquelle 
estoit  meilleur  de  eulz.  Et  dist  la  mousche :  "  Tu  ne 
te  pues  comparagier  a  noz  loenges.  La  ou  les  entrailles 
5  sont  sacrefiees,  j'en  gouste  la  premiere;  et  me  sie  sus 
la  teste  du  roy  et  donne  douz  besiers  a  toutes  les  dames. 
Des  quiex  choses  tu,  formi,  ne  fais  rien."  Done  dist 
le  formi :  "  Tu  as  dit  ce  contre  toy,  mauvaise  pestilence 


15]  THE    YSOPET   OF   JEHAN   DE   VIGNAY  361 

loe  ta  mauvaistie !  Viens  tu  la  desiree  ?  Nenil.  Les 
10  roys  et  les  dames  que  tu  nommes,  te  tiennent  a  mauvaise 
et  y  vas  malgre  leur.  Et  tu  dis  tout  estre  tien,  et  tu  es 
chaciee  la  ou  tu  vas,  et  es  aussi  comme  par  injure 
dechaciee  de  ga  et  de  la.  Tu  ne  pues  que  en  este  quant 
il  n'est  point  de  froit,  et  je  vraiement  sui  en  este  et  en 
15  yver,  et  les  choses  d'yver  sont  delicieuses  a  moy,  et  tu 
en  es  hors  boutee  comme  orde  et  puante. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  du  fourmi  et  de  la  mousche  after  conten- 
cieusement.  —  2.  I  tenoient  for  tencoient;  CEFI  tencoient  ensemble; 
H  pour  ce  que  chascun  des  deux  disoit  estre  plus  digne  de  louenge 
for  laquelle  .  .  .  eulz.  —  3.  I  estoit  la;  CE  eulz  deux.  —  4.  B 
omits  te;  CE  acompaigner,  FI  acomparagier,  H  acomparer;  CE 
mes  for  noz;  H  moy  for  noz  loenges;  CEH  car  la.  —  5.  CDEHI 
sur  for  sus.  —  6.  CEI  table  for  teste;  H  d'un  for  du.  —  7.  CEI 
omit  formi;  CEFHI  adonc  for  done.  —  8.  D  la  formy;  I  ce  dit; 
B  moy  for  toy.  —  9.  B  tu  for  ta;  F  oar  viens;  H  tu  ne  peuz 
vanter  for  viens  .  .  .  desiree;  F  sanz  estre  for  la;  C  mandee, 
D  derriere,  EI  dessure  for  desiree;  B  nennin,  FH  omit  nenil;  H  car 
les.  —  10.  C  omits  que  tu  nommes;  I  tres  mauvaise.  —  11.  H 
car  tu  for  first  et;  CEHI  eulx  for  leur;  DH  omit  last  et;  H  de 
par  tout  for  tu  ea  chaciee.  —  12.  I  par  tout  la;  H  tu  for  et; 
CDH  ainsi  for  aussi.  —  13.  CDEHI  chassee;  H  vivre  que;  CEI 
et  quant.  —  14.  FH  ne  fait  for  n'est.  —  15.  I  mais  for  second  et. 
—  16.     CDEI   omit  en;   E  boutee  hors. 

De  ce  meisme  contre  les  povres  orgiieilleux  et  les 
riches  desloiaux  et  non  estables  :  v 

[XVI.     Frog  and  Ox] 

De  rechief  contre  le  povre  orgueilleus.  Une  raine  vit 
un  buef  pessant  en  un  pre  et  cuidoit  que  ele  petist  estre 
faite  icele  se  ele  emploit  sa  piau  froncie.  Et  ele,  enflant 
soy,  demanda  a  ses  filz  se  ele  estoit  ja  aussi  grant  comme 
5  un  buef;  et  il  distrent  que  non.  Et  ele  s'enfla  plus  de 
rechief  et  demanda  as  siens  se  ele  estoit  buef;  les  quiex 
respondirent  que  ele  ne  li  resembloit  de  riens.     Et  tierce 


363  SNAVELY  [16 

foiz,  si  comme  ele  s'enfloit,  la  piau  rompi  et  ele  est  morte. 
Et  pour  ce  est  il  dit  communement :  "  Ne  vous  enflez 
10  pas  que  vous  ne  crevez." 

(Heading)  B  inserts  v;  F  omits  de  ce  meisme;  C  reads  les  povres 
et  les  riches  orgueilleux ;  DEI  omit  orgueilleux;  CH  omit  desloiaux, 
H  inserts  variables;  CDEH  omit  non  estables;  B  omits  v;  C  reads 
Ve.  (Fable  XVI)  1.  A  inserts  Exemple  de  la  raine  et  du  buef; 
CE  les  povres.  2.  H  omits  que;  DH  omit  ele  peust  .  .  .  faite.  — 
3.  BDFH  telle,  CEl  tele  for  icele;  H  maiz  qu'  for  se;  H  emplist 
fort  for  emploit;  H  pauce  si  menga  fort  et  but  tant  qu'ele  for 
piau  .  .  .  enflant;  D  se  enflant.  —  4.  DH  omit  soy;  B  que  for 
comme.  —  5.  I  mais  for  second  et;  CEI  omits  s';  B  plus  et,  H  plus 
fort.  —  6.  B  ele  leur  for  et;  H  lors  ex;  B  omits  as  siens;  I  et  ilz; 
CEI  sa  for  la;  CEFHI  omit  ele;  F  omits  et  est  morte;  BCEI  fut 
for  est;  H  mourut  for  est  morte.  —  9.  H  ou  for  est  i1;  C  omits 
vous.  —  10.     H  pas  tant. 


[XVII.     Proud  Horse  and  Ass] 

De  rechief  que  ceulz  qui  beneurez  se  cuident  ne  facent 
injure  a  nul  et  se  remembrent  que  la  roe  de  fortune 
est  doubteuse.  Un  cheval,  aorne  de  frain  d'argent  et 
de  belle  selle  d'or,  courut  contre  un  asne  de  loing  en  un 
5  lieu  estroit,  et  estoit  chargie  et  travaillie.  Et  pour  ce 
avoit  l'asne  a  celui  trespassant  lessie  plus  tart  la  voie 
pour  ce  que  il  estoit  lasse  de  la  voie,  le  cheval  dist: 
"  Se  je  ne  me  retenisse  assez,  je  te  rompisse  tout  des 
piez,  que  quant  tu  m'encontras  ne  me  donnas  pas  lieu, 

10  ou  tu  ne  arrestas  tant  que  je  passasse."  Et  le  chetif 
asne  se  tut  et  gemi  pour  la  paour  et  pour  Forgueil  de 
li.  Et  pou  apres  de  temps  le  cheval  fait  rompu  maigre 
en  courant  et  en  chevauchant,  fu  mene  du  commandement 
de   son   maistre   a  porter  le   fiens   as   champs  et   a  vilz 

15  aornemens  aloit  par  le  chemin  chargie.  Et  pour  ce  que 
l'asne  paissant  es  pres  le  cognut  si  chaitif  et  si  maleiire, 
il  le  commenga  a  blasmer  par  tel  son :  "  Que  font  profitie 


17]  THE    YSOPET    OF   JEHAN   DE   VIGNAY  363 

ces  precieux  aornemens  dont  tu  avoies  tel  hardiesce,  et 
maintenant  tu  uses  avec  nous  de  vilaines  offices." 

1.  A  adds  Exeniple  du  cheval  orgueilleus;  BF  de  for  que.  — 
2.  H  leur  souviengne  for  remenibrent;  CEI  de  for  que.  —  3.  CE 
qui  trop  est;  I  qui  est;  D  omits  et.  —  4.  CE  omit  belle.  —  5.  CE 
estoit  l'asne;  I  chargie"  l'asne.  —  6  D  a  icelui  H  au  cheval  for  a 
celui;  H  ocupe"  for  lesste;  DH  omit  plus  .  .  .  Iass6.  —  7.  H  omits 
de;  CEI  omit  de  la  voie;  F  charge  for  voie;  F  et  le,  I  mais  le; 
B  dist  a  l'asne.  —  8.  Ha  peu  for  je;  H  feust  for  retenisse  assez; 
DH  tous;  D  tez,  F  de  mes,  H  tes  for  des.  —  9.  H  pour  ce  que; 
F  qui  for  que;  CEI  tu  for  ne;  H  feiz  for  donnas  pas;  CEI  omit 
pas;  H  voie  for  lieu.  —  10.  H  ou  que;  CEI  omit  tu  ne;  I  toy 
for  te;  CEI  jusques  a  tant;  CEHI  fusse  passe  for  passasse;  I  mais 
for  et;  H  mais  for  et.  —  12.  CEI  omit  de  temps;  CEI  fut,  F  fu 
fait,  H  devint  for  fait;  BCDEFHI  rompu  et.  —  13.  CE  omit  en; 
C  si  fu;  FI  et  fu.  —  14.  EF  les  for  le.  —  15.  C  et  aloit;  I 
parmi  for  par;  F  omits  et.  —  16.  A  Ten  recognut  for  le  cognut; 
H  et  si.  —  17.  B  se  for  le;  H  en  lui  disant  for  par  tel;  F  telz; 
F  moy  for  son;  H  omits  son;  D  ton  for  font.  —  18.  CEFH  tes 
for  ces;  I  que  en  for  dont;  A  repeats  et  maintenant.  —  19.  E  des; 
CEI  vilz  for  vilaines. 


[XVIII.     Bat,  Birds  and  Beasts] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  se  partent  desloyaument 
des  leur  et  trespassent  as  autres.  Les  bestes  si  faisoient 
guerre  avecques  les  oysiaus,  et  l'une  partie  ne  vainquoit 
Pautre,  mes  se  combatoient  forment;  et  la  chauve  souriz 
5  doutoit  les  grieves  aventures  et  la  grant  compaignie  des 
bestes,  et  elle  qui  estoit  haut  en  l'air,  se  mist  avec  les 
bestes  aussi  comme  avec  les  vainqueurs.  Et  soudement 
Paigle  vint  avec  les  oysiaus  et  se  mesla  as  bestes  et, 
les  bestes  fuians  s'en,  la  victoire  fu  des  oisiaus;  et  puis 
10  sont  retouTnez  arriere  les  oisiaus  et  les  bestes  a  la  premiere 
pais.  Et  la  chauve  souriz  fu  condampnee  par  la  sentence 
des  oisiaus;  pour  ce  que  elle  avoit  les  siens  lassiez  et 
est  despoilliee  de  ses  plumes  pour  voler  nue  par  nuit. 


364  SNAVELY  [18 

Aussi  cil  qui  ara  mesfait  nuisant  as  deux  parties,  il  est 
15  mal  agreable  a  Pun  et  l'autre  et  vit  plus  nuisant  a  lui 
meismes. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  de  la  chauve  souriz;  I  de  for  contre;  CEI 
departent  for  partent.  —  2.  BF  de;  CDEFHI  leurs;  BF  estas  et; 
CEI  omit  si.  —  3.  CEI  contre  for  avecques;  A  des  parties  for 
partie;  H  pouvoit  vaincre  for  vanquoit;  BF  vainquoit  point.  —  5. 
CEI  omit  grieves.  —  6  C  bestes  cuidant  tout  ce  estre  moult  bien 
a  son  avantaige;  F  ce  for  et;  F  estoit  en.  —  7.  CH  ainsi  for 
aussi;  I  omits  aussi;  DH  omit  avec.  —  8.  I  si  vint;  F  omits  et 
se  .  .  .  victoire;  CEI  et  les  desconfist  et.  —  9.  CEHI  omit  s'en; 
H  se  mist  avec  les  oiseaulx  qui  obtindrent  la;  FH  omit  fu  des 
oisiaus;  CEI  aux  for  fu  des.  —  10.  H  firent  for  sont;  H  omits 
retournez;  H  omits  arriere  .  .  .  premiere.  —  11.  H.  pais  entre 
eulx;  I  mais  for  et;  H  et  fu  lors;  CEI  omit  par  la;  CEI  omit 
sentence  des  oisiaus.  —  13.  CEI  omit  est,  F  fu  for  est;  CEI  a 
for  pour;  I  omits  nue.  —  14.  DH  et  aussi;  CH  ainsi  for  aussi; 
C  omits  il,  —  15.  F  et  a;  CDEHI  une;  BCDEFHI  a  l'autre; 
CDEHI  omit  et  .  .  .  meismes;   F  que  aidant  for  a  lui  meismes. 

Contre  les  envieus  et  folz  et  vendaiiz  leur  fran- 
chises :  vi 

[XIX.     Sparrow-Hawk  and  Linnet] 

De  rechief  contre  les  aguetans  a  mal  faire.  Si  conrme 
un  esprevier  s'estoit  assis  sus  le  ni  d'une  linote  pour 
regarder  le  temps,  il  trouva  illeuc  petiz  poucins,  et  la 
linote  seurvint  tant  tost  et  pria  a  celui  que  il  espargnost 
5  a  ses  poucins.  "  Je  ferai,"  dist  il,  "  ce  que  tu  veulz  se 
■tu  me  chantes  bien."  Et  icelle  fist  oultre  son  courage 
comme  contrainte  de  paour  et  plaine  de  douleur,  et  chanta. 
L'esprevier  qui  avoit  trouve  sa  proie  dist :  "  Tu  n'as  pas 
bien  chante,"  et  prist  un  des  poucins  et  le  commenca 
10  a  devourer.  Et  un  oiselleur  le  vint  d'une  autre  partie, 
et  a  une  petite  hautelete  recorbee  au  bout  prist  l'esprevier 
et  le  geta  a  terre.  Et  ainsi  ceulz  qui  espient  les  autres 
doivent  craindre  que  il  ne  soient  pris. 


19]  THE   YSOPET    OF    JEHAN   DE   VIGNAY  365 

I 

(Heading)  H  Derechief  contre;  B  le;  C  francz,  D  lefrans,  EI  frans 
for  folz;  CEHI  omit  second  et.  (Fable  XIX)  A  adds  Exemple  de 
l'espervier  et  de  la  linote;  H  il  feint  une  telle  fable  for  si  comme.  — 
3.  I  petiz  enfans;  I  mais  for  et.  —  5.  C  omits  a.  —  6.  CEI  omit 
me;  CEI  contre  for  oultre.  —  7.  E  doulceur  for  douleur;  CEI  omit 
second  et;  I  chanta  mais;  I  point  for  pas.  —  9.  I  omits  le;  I  dist 
tu  seras  devor6  for  commenca  a  devourer.  —  10.  F  omits  un  oiselleur 
le;  CEI  homme  for  oiselleur;  BDH  omit  le;  CEI  leur  for  le;  A  vit 
for  vint.  —  11.  CEI  omit  et;  C  a  tout;  F  omits  au  bout;  CEI 
bout  et.  —  12.  F  aussy  for  ainsi;  I  omits  ceulz.  —  13.  CEI  et 
doubter  que;  F  a  estre  for  que  il  ne  scient;  CEI  espiez  et  pris; 
I  esprins  for  pris. 

[XX.     Man  and  Trees] 

De  rechief  que  aucuns  ne  preste  armeiires  a  son  anemi. 
Comme  la  coignie  fust  faite,  l'omme  requeroit  as  arbres 
que  il  li  donnassent  manche  de  fust  qui  fust  ferme. 
Laquelle  chose  faite,  l'omme  prist  le  manche  et  le  ap- 
5  propria  a  la  coignie  et  en  coupoit  les  rains  et  les  grans 
arbres  et  tout  ce  que  il  vouloit.  Done  dist  le  chesne 
au  fresne :  "  Nous  usons  dignement  et  bien  qui  comme 
avugles  a  nostre  anemi  depriant  avon  donne  manche." 
Et  pour  ce  chascun  se  pourpense  avant  que  il  ne  preste 
10  a  son  anemi  armeiire. 

1.  ACDEHI  omit  que  aucuns;  H  on  ne  doit;  DH  prester,  CDEHI 
preste  nulles;  CEI  ton  for  son;  H  anemi  par  cest  exemple.  —  2.  H 
quant  for  comme;  CE  requist.  —  3.  CEI  omit  qui  fust.  —  5.  H 
omits  grans.  —  7.  BF  souffrons  ceste  chose,  H  avons  este"  for  usons; 
H  bien   abusez  for  dignement  et  bien;    C  omits  comme  avugles.  — 

8.  C  a   nous  for  avon;    CEI  manche  de  quoy   il   nous   destruit.  — 

9.  F    omits    se;    CEHI    omit    ne.  —  10.     CEI    omit    armeure    and 
insert  chose  dont    (C  de  quoy)    mal  lui  puisse    (I  puet)    venir. 

[XXI.     Dog  and  Wolf] 

De  rechief  a  la  loenge  de  franchise  il  faint  que  comme 
le  chien  et  le  lou  se  assemblassent  ensemble  en  un  bois, 


366  SNAVELY  [20 

le  lou  dist  au  chien :  "  De  quoy  est  ce  que  tu  es  si 
luisant  et  si  gras?"  Et  le  chien  irespondi:  "Car  je 
5  sui  garde  de  la  maison  mon  maistre  contre  les  larrons 
et  m'est  le  pain  aporte  et  mon  seigneur  me  donne  des  os. 
Et  toute  la  mesnie  me  aiment  et  me  donnent  de  la 
viande,  et  l'yaue  ne  me  faut  point,  et  couche  souz  la 
couverture.     Et  ainsi  demaine  ma  vie  sanz  riens  faire." 

10  Au  quel  le  lou  dit :  "  Frere,  je  voudroie  bien  que  ces 
choses  m'avenissent,  que  je  oiseus  fusse  saoule  de  viande 
et  vesquisse  miex  souz  couverture."  Et  dist  le  chien: 
"  Se  tu  veulz  que  il  te  soit  bien,  si  vien  avec  moy  et 
n'aies  paour."     Et  si  comme  il  aloient  ensemble,  le  lou 

15  vit  le  col  au  chien  lie  de  chaennes,  et  dist:  "  Qu'  est 
ceci,  f  rere  ?  Quel  est  ce  lien  que  tu  as  entour  le  col  ?  " 
Et  le  chien  dist :  "  Je  sui  liez  aucunes  foiz,  car  je  en 
eui  plus  aigre;  et  sui  deslie  par  nuit  dedenz  l'ostel  et 
me   vois  esbatant  entre  les   maisons  et   dorm   la   ou  je 

20  veul."  Et  le  lou  dist :  "  II  ne  m'est  mestier  user  de 
tiex  choses  que  tu  m'as  loees.  Je  veul  vivre  franc,  quar 
je  vois  tout  franc  a  ma  volente  la  ou  je  veul  a  ce  qui 
me  plest.  Nule  chaienne  ne  me  tient.  Nule  cause  ne 
me  empeesche.     Les  voies  me  sont  aouvertes  as  champs. 

25  Je  gouste  le  premier  des  bestes.  Je  escharnis  les  chiens 
par  mon  enging.  Vif  si  comme  tu  as  acoustume,  et  si 
je  vivrai  si  comme  j'ay  acoustume  aussi." 

1.     A   adds   Exemple   du   chien   et   du   loup;    F   omits   comme.  — 

4.  BF  il  for  le  chien;   CH  omit  car  and  H  inserts  pour  ce  que.  — 

5.  CH  de  mon;  B  omits  mon  maistre.  —  6.  D  omits  second  et.  — 
7.  BCEFHI  aime;  CEI  donne.  —  10.  F  tiex  for  ces.  —  11.  D  et 
que;  F  fusse  et.  —  12.  C  omits  miex;  C  la  couverture;  C  et 
adonc;  I  et  lors.  —  13.  BCDEFHI  omit  si.  —  14.  C  aies  pas, 
F  aies  nulle;  D  pour  for  paour;  I  mais  for  et;  I  omits  ensemble.  — 
15.  H  du  for  au;  H  si  lui  for  lie"  de  chaennes  et;  ACDEI  d'une 
for  de;  ACDEI  chaienne;  I  lui  dist  et.  —  16.  CI  cy,  D  ce,  H  cela 
for  ceci;  D  le  for  ce;  I  qui  est  for  que  tu  as;  CEI  ton  for  le.  — 17. 
I  mais  for  et;  I  lui  dist;  CE  liez  entour  mon  col.  —  19.  C  contre, 
I   parmi  for  entre;    CEI  me  dorm.  —  20.     A  lors  for  et;    D  omits 


21]  THE    YSOPET    OF    JEHAN   DE    VIGNAY  367 

II j  D  de  user;  H  des  for  de  tiex.  —  21.  B  omits  tu;  F  loee. — 
22.  H  et  a  ce;  CEI  en  for  a;  CI  qu'il  for  qui.  —  23.  C  omits  me; 
I  retient;  FI  ne  nule;  C  chose  for  cause.  —  24.  C  es  for  as; 
C  adds  et  aux  boys,  E  aux  boiz,  I  au  boys  after  champs.  —  25.  C 
evite  for  escharnis.  —  26.  CE  omit  si;  BCDEFHI  omit  second  si. 
—  27.     CE  omit  si;  H  ainsi  que  for  comme;  CEHI  omit  aussi. 

Contre  les  envieus,  paresceus,  folz,  et  avers,  van- 
teiirs,  lobeiirs,  et  meiiteiirs :  vii 

[XXII.     Belly  and  Members] 

De  rechief  contre  les  paresceux  qui  labourer  ne  veulent, 
il  faint  eeste  fable  que  les  mains  et  les  piez  orent  despit 
du  ventre  et  ne  li  vouldrent  donner  viande,  pour  ce 
que  sanz  nul  travail,  que  il  feist,  il  estoit  touz  jours 
5  replani  et  se  seoit  tout  oiseus,  et  en  despit  de  lui  ne 
voudrent  labourer,  et  li  deneerent  tout  servise.  Le  ventre 
vraiement  tout  familleus  crioit,  mes  eulz  ne  li  vouldrent 
riens  donner  par  pluseurs  jours.  Le  ventre  certes  geu- 
nant,  les  membres  toutes  se  laschierent.  Et  apres  ce 
10  ceulz  voudrent  donner  viande  au  ventre,  et  le  ventre  les 
refusa,  car  il  avoit  ja  clos  les  voies.  Et  ainsi  les  mem- 
bres et  le  ventre  lassez  morurent  ensemble. 

(Heading)  H  de  rechief  contre;  H  omits  envieus;  F  vains  for 
folz;  H  omits  folz  et  avers;  D  omits  et;  F  avers  et;  CDEHI  omit 
vanteurs;  F  vanteurs  et;  F  flateurs  for  lobeurs;  F  porteurs  de 
nouvelles  for  menteurs.  (Fable  XXII)  1.  A  adds  Exemple  des 
mains  et  des  piez  qui  orent  despit  du  ventre.  —  2.  BF  omit 
ceste  fable;  B  un  despit.  —  3.  C  plus  donner.  —  4.  H  face  for 
feist;  ADH  est  for  estoit.  —  5.  CEI  rempli  for  replani;  H  omits 
tout;  CEI  ilz  ne.  —  6.  C  defendirent  for  deneerent.  —  7.  H  omits 
vraiement  tout  familleus;  CDEFI  omit  tout;  H  crioit  de  rage  de 
faim;  A  il,  CDEHI  ilz  for  eulz.  —  8.  B  omits  certes.  —  9. 
BCDEFHI  tous.  —  10.  A  il,  CEI  ilz,  DH  qu'ilz  for  ceulz;  I  mais 
for  et;  DH  omit  et  le  ventre;  H  ventre  il;  CEI  le,  DH  la  for  les.  — 
11.     F   refuse.  —  12.     I   tous  ensemble. 


368  SNAVELY  [22 


[XXIII.     Monkey  and  Fox] 

De  rechief  contre  envie  et  avarice,  il  faint  ceste  fable 
que  le  singe  pria  le  gourpil  que  il  li  donnast  de  la  grandeur 
de  sa  queue,  que  il  en  couvrist  ses  naches  tres  laides. 
"  Quel  profit  as  tu,"  dist  il,  "  que  tu  la  traines  si  longue 
5  et  si  pesant  par  terre  ?  "  Au  quel  le  gourpil  dist :  "  Je 
aime  miex  que  ele  soit  faite  greigneur  et  plus  longue, 
et  que  je  la  traine  par  terre,  par  pierres,  par  espines,  et 
par  boe,  que  tu  fusses  veii  plus  bel  de  la  couverture  de 
cele."  "  Biche,"  dist  il,  "  et  aver,  il  te  blame  par  sa 
10    fable  que  tu  ne  donnes  ce  de  quoy  tu  as  trop." 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  du  singe  et  du  gourpil;  I  omits  et  avarice; 
BF  omit  ceste  fable  —  2.  H  omits  que;  C  ung  regnart,  H  le 
renart  for  le  gourpil.  —  3.  CDEHI  a  fin  que;  F  si  que;  B  nues 
for  tres.  —  4.  CEI  en  disant  for  dist  il.  —  5.  CH  regnart  for 
gourpil.  —  7.  E  le  for  la;  D  pres  for  pierres.  —  8.  C  la  boe; 
H  embely  for  veu  plus  bel;  CEI  par  for  de;  CDEFHI  d'icelle.  — 
9.  H  inserts  0  before  riche;  H  has  je  for  second  il;  D  omits  sa, 
H  ceste  for  sa.  —  10.  H  pour  ce  que;  BF  quant  for  que;  H 
donnes  mie;   I  or  for  ce;    D  ce  que. 

[XXIV.     Workman  and  Ass] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  par  annui  de  vivre  et  de 
travaillier  desirent  la  mort.  Un  laboureur  fu  qui  son 
asne  chargie  batoit  en  la  voie  d'un  fouet  et  d'une  verge 
pour  ce  que  il  venist  tost  a  la  foire  pour  cause  de 
5  gaaignier.  L'asne  desiroit  la  mort  et  cuidoit  estre  seiir 
apres,  et  li  lasse  et  casse.  Apres  sa  mort  sont  fais  tabors 
et  timbres  de  la  pel  de  eel  asne  qui  cuidoit  estre  seiir, 
et  il  sont  touz  jors  batus. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple;  C  omits  third  de.  —  2.  BF  travail.  —  3. 
H  asne  tout.  —  4.  BFH  omit  pour  ce  and  H  inserts  afin.  —  5. 
BF  gaing;  I  mais  l'asne.  —  6.  H  si  tost  li;  F  casse  que;  F  fussent 
for  sont;    H  mourut  leu   fist   for   apres  .  .  .  fais.  —  7.     H   cribles 


23]  THE    YSOPET    OF   JEHAN   DE   VIGNAY  369 

for  timbres;  BF  sa  for  la;  CDH  de  cest,  I  d'icelui  for  de  eel; 
H  omits  qui  cuidoit  estre  seur;  F  after  seur  inserts  de  sa  pel  sont 
entendus  les  chetis  sers  qui  ont  esperance  de  reeouvrer  franchise.  — 
8.  H  par  ee  moyen  il;  H  fut  for  sont;  H  plus  batu  que  devant  for 
touz  jors  batuz. 

[XXV.     Fox  and  Grapes] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  ce  qu'il  ne  pueent  faire, 
demonstrent  il  pouoir  faire  par  paroles  et  par  volente. 
Un  gourpil  contraint  de  fain  regarda  une  grape  pendant 
en  haut,  et  il  se  boutoit  sus  un  haut  degre,  et  tant  de 
5  foiz  comme  il  y  vouloit  ataindre,  il  ne  pouoit.  Et  en 
la  par  fin  dist  il :  "  Je  ne  te  veul  point ;  tu  es  aigre 
et  non  pas  meiire."  Et  aussi  comme  se  il  ne  la  daignast 
touchier,  il  s'en  ala. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  du  gourpil;  C  omits  de  rechief;  D  repeats 
ce;  CE  omit  ce  qu'il;  D  omits  ne;  H  le  feignent  laisser  for  faire 
demonstrent;  CI  faire  et.  —  2.  CHI  omit  il;  CDEHI  omit  pouoir; 
F  pouoir  de;  H  omits  faire;  CDEFHI  parole;  D  la  volenti.  — 
3.  CH  regnart  for  gourpil ;  H  omits  de  fain.  —  4.  BF  omit  en ; 
C  monta,  EI  s'en  monta  for  se  boutoit;  DH  omit  haut;  H  omits 
second  et.  —  5.  DH  omit  y ;  H  ataindre  et ;  Ha  for  en.  —  6. 
CEI  omit  par;  BF  omit  il;  CEHI  n'en  for  ne  te;  D  omits  te;  H  elle 
est  trop  for  tu  es.  —  7.  H  peu  for  non  pas;  I  point  for  pas;  CH 
ainsi  for  aussi;   D  omits  se;   DH  n'y  for  ne  la.  —  8.     EI  omit  il. 

[XXVI.     Monkeys  and  Men] 

De  rechief  contre  les  lobeurs  et  raconteurs  de  nouveles. 
Deus  hommes,  l'un  faus,  l'autre  vray,  si  comme  il  aloient 
par  terre,  il  vindrent  en  la  province  des  singes.  Et  si 
comme  un  des  singes,  qui  estoit  establi  greigneur  mestre 
5  que  les  autres,  les  vit,  il  commanda  ces  hommes  estre 
tenuz  et  demander  leur  que  il  diroient  de  lui.  Et  com- 
manda touz  les  autres  singes  semblables  a  li  ester  eulz  a 
destre  et  a  senestre  de  li,  et  commanda  que  Pen  li 
23 


370  SNAVELT  [24 

feist  un  siege  bel   et   grant   si  comme   il   avoit   aucune 

10  faiz  veii  faire.  Et  adonc  il  a  commande  ces  homines  estre 
amenez  devant.  Et  dist  celui  greigneur  singe :  "  Qui  sui 
je  ?  Di !  "  Et  le  tricheiir  respondi :  "  Tu  es  emperiere." 
Et  il  dist  de  rechief :  "  Et  ceulz  que  tu  vois  ci  ester  devant 
moy  ? "     Et  il  respondi :   "  II  sont  contes  et  chevaliers 

15  et  princes  et  ont  ces  autres  offices."  Celui  adonques  est 
loe  en  sa  mengonge,  et  est  commande  avoir  grans  dons, 
pour  ce  que  il  l'a  lobe  et  deceiis  touz  les  autres.  Et 
l'autre  veritable  homme  disoit  en  soy  mei'smes :  "  Cestui 
qui  est  menteiir  et  faux,  qui  est  ainsi  guerredone  de  sa 

20  menconge !  Que  serai  je  se  je  di  voir?"  Adonc  li  a 
ce  singe  demande :  "  Di  tu,  quel  sui  je,  et  ceulz  que  tu 
vois  entour  moy  ?"  Celui  qui  amoit  verite  respondi :  "  Tu 
es  un  singe,  et  touz  ceulz  ci  sont  6inges  semblables  a 
toy."     Et  maintenant  il  est  commande  estre  despecie  as 

25  dens  et  as  ongles  pour  ce  que  il  avoit  dit  ce  qui  estoit 
voir.  En  ceste  maniere  seult  il  estre  fait  des  mauvais 
hommes  que  fallaces  et  malices  soient  amez,  et  honneste 
et  verite  soit   despite. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple  des  singes;  A  menconges  for  nouveles;  CEI 
nouveles  il  faint  ceste  fable. —  2.  H  omits  il.  —  3.  B  omits  et 
.  .  .  singes;  H  omits  si.  —  4.  E  saiges  for  singes;  H  estoient.  — 
5.  CEI  des  for  que  les;  CEI  les  H  qu'ilz  for  ces  hommes;  H 
feussent  retenuz  pour  savoir  for  estre  .  .  .  demander.  —  6.  C  de- 
manda,  E  demande,  I  omits  demander;  ACDEHI  omit  leur;  H  omits 
second  et;  CEHI  omit  commanda.  —  7.  H  transposes  touz  .  .  .  de 
li  after  faire,  I.  10;  CEI  entour  for  semblables  a;  H  feussent  for 
ester;  B  soi  for  eulz,  CEHI  omit  eulz.  —  8.  Ha  coste  de;  CEI 
omit  de  li;  H  si  for  second  et;  CEI  on  for  Ten.  —  9.  I  feist 
venir;  CEH  beau;  H  omits  et  and  si.  —  10.  H  faire  et  si  ordonna 
que;  H  en  apres  for  et  adonc;  CDEI  omit  adonc;  CEI  omit  il  a 
commande;  FH  commanda  for  a  commande;  D  a  ces,  H  que  ces; 
CEHI  ces  deux;  H  feussent  for  estre.  —  11.  ABCDEFHI  devant 
lui;  H  lors  dist  a  l'un;  H  ce  for  celui;  H  maistre  for  greigneur; 
CEI  singe  a  ces  deux  hommes.  —  12.  C  omits  di;  H  omits  le; 
H  l'homroe  tricheur;  H  respondi  le  premier  et  dist;  H  es  ung 
droit.  —  13.     C  omits  et  il  dist  de  rechief;  F  demanda,  H  l'interroga 


25]  THE   YSOPET    OF    JEHAN    DE   VIGNAY  371 

for  dist;  H  omits  second  et;  CEI  entour  for  ci  ester  devant.  — 
14.  H  moy  qui  sont  ilz;  CEF  dist  for  et  il  respondi;  DI  omit 
et  il  respondi;  H  ce  for  second  il;  H  sont  dues;  CDEHI  omit  second 
et;  H  chevaliers  barons. 

15.  H  omits  ont  ces;  C  telz,  EF  tes  for  ces;  F  nobles  for 
autres;  H  officiers;  H  cest  homme  cy  for  celui  adonques;  CEFH 
fut  for  est.  —  16.  H  fort  avance"  a  la  court  des  singes  for  lo6; 
H  pour  for  en;  F  f u  for  est;  H  lui  furent  for  est  commands;  F  qu'il 
eust,  H  donnez  for  avoir;  B  grant  for  don.  —  17.  CEFHI  omit  Y ;  H 
avoit  for  a;  H  omits  lob6  .  .  .  et  and  inserts  menty  mais.  —  18.  H 
homme  ce  voiant;  C  a  for  en;  H  se  cestui.  —  19.  DH  omit  qui; 
I  est  for  et;  H  trompeur  for  faux;  H  omits  qui.  —  20.  H  feray 
for  serai;  DF  omit  li.  —  21.  ACDEHI  le,  F  celui  for  ce;  F  demande 
et;  H  omits  di  tu;  CF  toy;  CH  qui  for  quel;  I  tous  ceulz.  —  22. 
J  environ  for  entour;  F  moy  et.  —  23.  D  ces  for  ceulz;  D  omits 
sont.  —  24.  C  incontinent,  H  tantost  for  maintenant;  CEF  fut  for 
est;  H  le  maistre  single  commanda  qu'il  feust  dessire"  for  il  .  .  . 
despecig;  F  a  estre.  —  26.  B  voir  et;  C  souloit.  —  27.  CEHI 
omit  que;  H  qui  par  flaterie  et  menterie  for  fallaces  et  malices;  B 
malice;  HI  sont;  H  avancez  for  amez;  F  amez  et  honnorez;  D  honne 
for  honneste"  et;  CEFI  honnestes.  —  28.  CEI  vrais  disans,  F  veri- 
tez  for  verity ;  CEFI  soient;  H  maiz  on  n'a  cure  de  oyr  for  et  .  .  . 
despite ;   A  despite  et  haie. 


Contre   les   orgueilleus,   peresceus,   et  en   quel  ma- 
niere  il  est  a  user  de  ces  fables  :  vin 

[XXVII.     Ass  and  Lion.] 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  ne  veulent  riens  faire  par 
vertu  et  espoentent  les  autres  par  paroles  et  par  mains. 
L'asne  si  vint  de  diverses  parties  et  acourut  contre  le 
lyon,  et  dist  ainsi :  "  Monton  el  quaquevel  de  cele  mon- 
5  taigne,  et  je  te  monsterrai  que  pluseurs  me  craignent." 
Et  lyon  riant  li  dit :  "  Alon."  Et  si  comme  il  vindrent 
au  lieu,  l'asne  estent  soy  en  eel  lieu,  et  commenga  a  crier 
a  voiz  basse.  Et  quant  les  lievres  et  les  gourpilz  l'oi'rent, 
il  commencierent  a  courir.     Au  quel  le  lyon  dist :  "  Et 


372  SNAVELY  [26 

10  ta  voiz  me  pourrist  ele  espoenter  se  je  ne  savoie  qui  tu 
fusses." 

(Heading)  H  omits  contre  .  .  .  fables  and  inserts  contre  ceulz 
qui  ne  font  nulz  beaux  faiz  et  l'exortation  de  l'aucteur;  CDEI 
envieux  for  orgueilleus  F  omits  peresceus;  CI  omit  et;  D  omits  en; 
I  omits  en  .  .  .  fables;  CDE  omit  de  ces  fables.  (Fable  XXVII) 
1.  H  qui  a  la  verite" ;  H  font  nulz  beaux  faiz  maiz  for  veulent  .  .  . 
vertu  et.  —  2.  D  verite"  for  vertu;  H  de  parole  for  par  paroles; 
BF  omit  second  et;  B  tres  sainnes,  F  vainnes,  H  de  maniere  for 
par  mains.  —  3.  H  li  asnes;  CEI  omit  si;  B  diverse  partie;  H 
regions  for  parties.  —  4.  H  lui  dist;  BCDEHI  ou  for  el;  BCEH 
sommet,  F  sommerel  for  quaquevel;  CEH  ceste  for  cele.  —  5.  I 
omits  te;  H  tu  verras  for  je  te  monsterrai.  —  6.  BCDEFI  le  lyon; 
I  lou  for  lyon.  —  7.  H  ou  hault  for  au  lieu;  CE  omit  estent  soy; 
H  s'estendy  for  estent  soy;  B  ou  for  en;  CE  omit  en  eel  lieu;  ADHI 
ce,  B  dit  for  eel;  BCEF  omit  et.  —  8.  CH  regnartz  for  gourpilz.  — 
9.  CE  si  for  il;  D  omits  le;  CH  omit  et.  —  10.  BCDEFI  pour- 
roit;  B  ausi  for  ele;  F  ele  aussy;  H  omits  ta  .  .  .  fusses  and  inserts 
je  croy  que  tu  me  feroies  paour  se  je  ne  t'avoie  onques  veu;  CE  ne 
te  congnusse  et  ne;   CF  que. 

[XXVIII.    Lion  and  Fox]. 

De  rechief  contre  ceulz  qui  legierement  entrent  en  la 
maison  des  puissans  hommes.  Le  lyon  si  faignoit  que 
il  estoit  malade,  et  par  ceste  fallace,  si  comme  les  autres 
bestes  venoient  a  li  visiter  il  les  mengoit  maintenant.  Et 
5  le  gourpil  vint  devant  la  fosse  au  lyon  et  le  salua.  Et 
le  lyon  li  demanda  pour  quoi  il  n'entroit  ens.  Et  il 
renpondi :  "  Pour  ce  que  je  voi  bien  la  trace  des  entranz, 
mais  je  ne  la  voy  point  des  issans." 

1.  A  adds  Exemple;  CEI  de  for  contre.  —  2.  B  du  poissant 
homme;  CE  omit  si;  C  faignant  estre  for  faignoit  .  .  .  estoit.  — 
4.  CEI  bestes  le;  CEI  omit  a  li;  DH  le  for  li;  C  incontinent  for 
maintenant;  CE  et  si  comme.  —  5.  C  regnart  for  gourpil;  CEI 
du  for  au;  C  omits  second  et,  I  mais  for  et.  —  7.  H  de  ceulz  qui 
y  entrent  for  des  entranz.  —  8.  CEHI  omit  la;  CDE  pas;  CEI 
la  trace  des;  H  celle  de  ceulx  qui  en  yssent  for  des  issans. 


27]  THE    YSOPET    OF    JEHAN   DE   VIGNAY  373 


[XXIX.    Ant  and  Cricket]. 

De  rechief  contre  les  peresceus.  Le  formi  el  temps 
d'yver  traioit  le  fourment  de  sa  fosse  hors  et  le  sechoit, 
le  quel  formi  il  avoit  conqueilli  en  este.  Le  gressillon  si 
le  prioit  que  il  li  donnast  aucune  chose  de  viande  pour 
5  vivre,  car  il  mouroit  de  fain.  Auquel  le  fourmi  dist: 
"  Que  f  aisoies  tu  en  este  ?"  "  Je  n'i  entendoie  point," 
dist  il,  "  mes  me  esbatoie  par  les  buissons  et  chantoie." 
Le  formi  adonc,  riant  et  encloant  son  f orment,  dist :  "  Se 
tu  chantas  en  este,  si  sail  en  yver."  Ceste  fable  enseigne 
10  le  pereceus  que  il  laboure  en  certain  temps,  si  que  quant  il 
ara  petit,  il  n'ara  pas  ce  que  il  demandera. 

1.  A  adds  Exemple;  ABDFH  ou,  CEI  par  for  el.  —  2.  C  si 
traioit;  CH  tiroit  for  traioit;  C  hors  de;  BCF  la  for  sa;  E  omits 
hors.  —  3.  BFH  forment  for  formi;  C  formi  si;  CDEI  I'  for  il; 
CE  este  et;  BF  criquet  for  gresillon;  CE  omit  si.  —  4.  CDEHI 
lui  for  le;  I  pria.  —  5.  H  demanda  for  dist.  —  7.  I  parmi  for 
par.  —  8.  D  si  for  se.  —  10.  ACDHI  les,  F  au  for  le;  CDEHI 
ilz  for  il;  ABCDEHI  labourent;  F  temps  de  prosperity;  FH  omit 
si  .  .  .  demandera;  F  inserts  que  il  n'ait  deffaute  en  temps  d'aver- 
site,  H  inserts  pour  recueillir  et  vivre  en  Pautre.  —  11.  I  appetit 
for  petit. 

[Epilogue] 

Uaucteur.  Ces  choses  ay  je  voulu  estraire  des  fables 
de  Esope,  les  quelles  se  par  aventure  aucune  chose  en 
plaise  reciter  en  commun,  si  comme  aucuns  des  sages  le 
font  pour  alegier  l'ennui  des  oyanz,  qui  sont  delictez  de 
5  tiex  choses.  Et  avec  sont  veiiz  avoir  aucune  chose  de  bon 
edefiement  pour  les  demonstrances  qui  i  sont.  Et  toute 
voies  ne  estime  je  pas  ce  a  estre  fait  fors  sagement  et 
espergnablement,  si  que  ceulz  qui  par  saintes  paroles 
doivent  estre  apelez  a  voie  de  penitence  et  a  la  devocion 
10  de  Dieu,  il  ne  soient  pas  trop  enjo'is  en  ris  et  en  jolivete. 


374  SNAVELY  [28 

Et  avec  ce  que  a  raconter  les  fables  aussi  comme  deiiement 
a  l'essample  des  preeschans  il  ne  soient  mal  enformez. 
De  rechief  savoir  mon  se  cestui  Esope  soit  celui  qui  Eusebe 
tesmoigne  estre  occis  des  Delphins  le  premier  an  de  Cyri, 
15  ou  se  ce  fu  un  autre  je  n'en  sui  pas  certain. 
Maintenant  certes  je  retorne  a  ma  matiere. 

1.  D  omits  l'aucteur.  —  2.  des  for  les.  —  4.  CEH  se  delic- 
tent  for  sont  delictez  CEI  en  oyant,  H  en  for  de.  —  5.  CEHI 
avec  ce;  C  aulcunes  choses.  —  6.  CDEFHI  toutes.  —  7.  BF  foiz 
for  voies;  I  escripve  for  estime;  CI  point  for  pas;  CEI  omit  a.  — 
8.  D  que  for  qui.  —  10.  CEI  omit  il;  I  point  for  pas;  BCFI  ne 
for  et.  —  11.  I  omits  et  .  .  .  enformez;  C  en  for  a;  B  ces  for 
les;  CDH  ainsi  for  aussi.  —  12.  ACDEH  pas  mal.  —  13.  Ha 
savoir;  D  ce  for  se;  Ce  est  for  soit;  CDEHI  que  for  qui.  —  14.  F 
a  estre.  —  15.  B  omits  se.  —  16.  A  omits  maintenant  .  .  . 
matiere  and  inserts  ci  fenist  ce  livret  Esope;  I  mais  certes;  F  mais 
il  est  temps  maintenant  que  certes;  BF  omits  certes. 


ESOPO  ZUCCARINO 

EDITED   BY 

Murray  P.  Brush 


Among  the  numerous  collections  of  Aesopic  fables  found 
in  Italian  literature  before  the  sixteenth  century,  none  shows 
greater  beauty  of  form  or  greater  finish  in  detail  than  that 
compiled  toward  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  by  Accio 
Zucco,  of  Somma  Campagna,  a  small  village  near  Verona. 
It  is  a  translation  of  the  well-known  twelfth  century  collec- 
tion in  Latin  distichs  usually  attributed  to  Walter  of  England,1 
and  consists  of  sixty-four  fables  in  sonnets,2  there  being  two 
to  each  fable,  one  for  the  example,  the  other  for  the  moral. 
It  is  preceded  by  a  prologue,  and  also  by  an  introduction 
of  four  sonnets,3  and  is  followed  by  a  thirty-two  line  Can- 

1  For  the  collection  of  Walter  of  England,  or  the  Anonymous 
Neveleti  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  see  Leopold  Hervieux,  Les  Fabu- 
listes  Latins,  2nd  ed.,  Paris  1893  sq.,  I,  472-502,  II,  316-351;  W. 
Foerster,  Lyoner  Ysopet,  Heilbronn,  1882,  Vol.  VI  of  Altfranzosische 
Bibliothek ;  H.  L.  D.  Ward,  Catalogue  of  Romances  in  the  Department 
of  Manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum,  London,  Vol.  II  (1893), 
309-321;  M.  P.  Brush,  Ysopet  HI  of  Paris,  PMLA.,  xxrv,  494-546. 
For  other  Italian  derivatives  of  Walter  of  England,  see  Hervieux, 
op.  cit.,  I,  637-665;  K.  McKenzie,  Note  sulle  antiche  favole  italiane, 
in  Miscellanea  di  studi  critici  e  ricerche  erudite  in  onore  di  V. 
Crescini,  Cividale  del  Friuli,  1910;  M.  P.  Brush,  The  Isopo  Lauren- 
ziano,  Columbus,  Ohio,  1899    (J.  H.  Diss.),  pp.  31-42. 

*  There  are  really  sixty-five  fables,  as  the  story  of  the  Athenians 
seeing  a  King  is  entirely  separate  from  the  dependent  fable  of 
the  Frogs  desiring  a  King.  Ward  (loc.  cit.)  classes  these  as  fifty- 
eight  Aesopic  fables  and  two  tales,  followed  by  two  supplementary 
fables  and  two  tales. 

*The  edition  of  1483  has  also  a  prefatory  sonnet  which  precedes 
the  prologue. 

1]  375 


376  brush  [2 

zonetta,  and  a  Canzone  of  eight  fifteen-line  stanzas  with  an 
envoy  of  eleven  lines. 

The  collection  has  come  down  to  us  in  a  single  manuscript, 
dated  1462,  and  in  some  sixteen  early  printed  editions 
ranging  from  1479  to  1566.4  In  the  main  the  printed 
editions  agree,  but  together  show  such  variations  from  the 
manuscript  that  we  must  suppose  an  older  form  of  the  collec- 
tion as  the  original  translation.  In  the  manuscript  and  in 
all  of  the  earlier  editions  the  Latin  text 5  alternates  with  the 
Italian,  and  one  is  often  surprised  at  the  fidelity  of  the  trans- 
lation when  one  realizes  that  more  than  once  a  fable  of  but 
ten  or  twelve  lines  has  been  developed  into  two  full  sonnets. 
Earely  is  there  any  introduction  of  new  motifs,  rather  the 
translator  amplifies  his  text  by  repeating  the  essential  facts 

4Hervieux  {loc.  cit.)  gives  a  list  of  these  editions  as  follows: 
1479  at  Verona,  1483  Rome  (not  Venice,  as  erroneously  stated  in 
my  Isopo  Laurenziano,  p.  33,  fn.  100),  1487  Brescia,  1491  (1492) 
Venice  (Dr.  Mackenzie  has  found  a  copy  of  this  edition  in  the 
Harvard  University  Library),  1493  Venice,  1497  Venice,  1498  Milan, 
1502  at  Venice  and  at  Milan,  1520  Milan,  1528  Venice,  1533  Venice, 
1544  Venice,  1566  Venice.  In  addition  to  the  foregoing  list,  we  have 
references  to  two  other  editions  as  follows: 

a.  1494  Bologna.  This  edition  is  described  in  Opere  della  Biblio- 
g'rafia  Bolognese  che  si  conservano  nella  Bibliotheca  municipale  di 
Bologna,  Luigi  Prati,  Bologna,  1889,  n,  col.  897,  No.  7258:  Zn-4.  cc. 
72  n.  n.,  car.  rom.,  s.  rich.,  c.  segnat.  A-I,  lim,.  37.  Non  registrata 
dal  Haiti.  The  colophon  reads:  Impresso  ne  lalma  &  inclita  cita  |  de 
Bologna  ne  lo  edificio  da  carta  |  dela  illustrissima  madon(n)a 
Zeneura  |  sforcia  de  bentiuogli:  per  maestro  |  Hercules  nani  sotto 
al  diuo  &  illu  |  stro  signore  misser  Giouan(n)i  benti-  |  uoglio  sforza 
di  uesconti  da  ragona  |  ne  lanno  del  nostro  signore  misser  |  Jesu 
Cristo,  Mcccclxxxxiiii.    a   di   xxii.  de  Febraro.     Laus   deo.     Finis. 

6.  1508  Venice.  This  edition  is  cited  in  Ilari's  catalogue  of  the 
Bibliotheca  Comunale  di  Siena  (I,  226)  as  having  the  same  colophon 
as  the  edition  of  1502  except  the  date,  which  is  1508  a  di  20  de 
Decembrio.     It  is  also  listed  in  Brunet,  Manuel  du  libraire*  I,  col.  98. 

5 A  comparison  of  this  with  Foerster's  critical  text  (loc.  cit.) 
shows  little  variation. 


3]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  377 

of  the  story  and  by  stressing  the  conclusions  to  be  drawn 
therefrom.  In  the  Canzone  which  closes  the  collection,  he 
again  repeats  in  epigrammatic  form  the  lesson  taught  by  each 
and  every  fable,  thus  giving  a  brief  resume  of  his  whole  work. 
In  the  same  Canzone  we  find  the  title  of  the  book,  for  in 
the  last  line  of  the  first  stanza  the  author  says:  Olio  nomato 
Exopo  Zucharino.  That  he  did  not  believe  in  literary  incog- 
nito is  shown  by  the  envoy  of  the  poem,  of  which  the  last 
seven  lines  read: 

S'el  nome  mio  alcun  saper  volesse, 

Digli  che  Azo  e'l   proprio  nome  mio. 

Or   vatene   con    Dio, 

E  franchamente  mostra  la  tua  arte; 

E  se  trovi  in  parte 

Che  del  pronome  mio  saper  si  lagna, 

Risponde  il  Zucho  da  Soma  Campagna. 

The  basis  of  the  accompanying  edition  of  the  fables  is 
the  unique  manuscript  preserved  in  the  British  Museum  as 
Additional  10389.  It  is  described  by  Ward  as  follows: 
"  Paper;  A.  D.  1462.  Folio;  ff.  54,  having  30  to  34  lines  to 
a  page.  Imperfect,  a  leaf  being  lost  after  f.  27.  Followed 
(ff.  56b  and  57b)  by  other  entries  in  Latin  verse  and  prose. 
With  initials  in  blue  and  red,  and  76  coloured  drawings. 
At  the  foot  of  the  first  page  is  a  shield  of  arms,  bendy  nebuly 
of  8,  argent  and  gules.  The  shield  is  between  two  lozenges, 
one  of  them  bearing  the  motto  "  Pax  Aeterna  ",  and  the  other 
bearing  a  device  which  looks  something  like  a  tradesman's 
mark,  together  with  the  initials  "  b  "  and  "  A  "  (f.  3).  The 
arms  and  motto  are  repeated  further  on,  upon  the  trappings 
of  a  knight's  horse  (f.  54)  ;  and  the  colophon  gives  the  name 
of  the  scribe  as  "  Jhoanes  benedictus  aurifex,"  together  with 
the  same  motto  (f.  57).6  The  full  text  of  the  colophon  is: 
De   sorio   /   Jhoanes   benedictus   aurifex   scripsit   die    .  15 . 

•Ward,  op.  cit.,  n,  331. 


378  brush  [4 

augustij  /  1462.  i(n)  co{n)trata  sa(n)cti  saluarij.  Of  this 
scribe  we  know  nothing.7  Fr.  Douce,  in  a  letter  of  February 
17,  1817,  addressed  to  Eichard  Heber,  a  former  owner  of  the 
manuscript,  and  which  has  been  pasted  in  the  binding,  con- 
siders that  the  aurifex  stood  for  '  goldsmith '  rather  than  the 
surname  Orefice.  The  drawings  with  which  the  manuscript 
is  profusely  illustrated  are  of  exceptional  merit,  many  of 
them  being  worthy  of  reproduction.  In  addition  to  the 
fables,  the  manuscript  contains  the  epitaph  of  John  Vis- 
conti,  Duke  of  Milan,  and  a  list  of  the  early  Doges  of  Venice. 

In  preparing  the  text  for  publication,  the  abbreviations  have 
been  solved  and  marks  of  punctuation,  capital  letters,  and 
accents  have  been  introduced  in  accordance  with  modern 
usage.  Changes  from  the  original  reading  have  been  made 
only  where  there  was  evident  error  on  the  part  of  the  scribe, 
and  all  such  changes  have  'been  indicated  by  italics,  while 
the  manuscript  reading,  in  each  case,  has  been  put  in  the 
footnotes.  Owing  to  the  exigencies  of  printing,  the  words 
Sonetus  and  Comentum,  found  before  the  fables  and  morals 
respectively,  have  been  omitted. 

Use  has  been  made  of  the  editions  of  1479  and  1483  to 
supply  all  lacunae  in  the  manuscript  and  to  give  the  more 
important  variant  readings.8  The  text  of  the  printed  editions 
is  so  unlike  that  of  the  manuscript  in  orthography  and  in  the 
order  of  words,  that  it  has  been  necessary  to  limit  the  citation 
of  variants  to  distinctly  different  readings  and  to  lines  where 
the  printed  text  serves  to  illuminate  a  particularly  obscure 
passage. 

'Mentioned  by  Bradley,  Dictionary  of  Miniaturists,  London,  Vol.  I, 
1887,  pp.  120-121,  the  reference  being  to  this  manuscript  only. 

8  For  the  manuscript,  a  rotograph  copy,  made  by  the  Oxford 
University  Press,  was  used;  for  the  first  editions,  a  copy  of  the  1479 
edition  made  by  the  writer,  revised  and  with  the  variants  of  the 
edition  of  1483  inserted  by  Mr.  P.  B.  Fay  of  the  Johns  Hopkins 
University. 


5]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  379 


Incipit  Libeb  Exopii  Zucarxxi  Editi  a  Zucoxe  de  Suma 
Campaxea. 

I.  El  me  convien  vestir  de  Paltru  fronde, 

Per  che  l'enzegno  mio  troppo  e  ligiero, 
E  seguir   l'orma  per  si  bon  sentero, 
Che  al  mio  rimar  faga  perfecte  sponde. 
Eccoti   Exopo,  che  qui  mi  responde  5 

Con  chiaro  volto  e  animo  sanciero, 
E  disse  a  me  cum  suo  parlar  maniero: 
"I'  dono  a  te  le  mie  faule  jocunde." 
I  spiriti  mei  alor  tuti  fuor  mossi 
Per  l'alegreza  quali  eran  dii  prima  10 

Tuti   occupati   e  d'ignorancia  grossi. 
Cominciar   volgio   adonca   dala  cima 
E  revestir  di  lui  li  nudi  dossi, 
Tanto  che  redurolo  tuto  in  rima. 
Colui  che  regie  nel  celeste  regno,  15 

Sua  gratia  preste  al  mio  picolo  ingiegno! 

II.  Chiamdmi  poscia  el  mio  doctore  indrio, 

Volgarizando  me  disse:     "Figliolo, 
Poi   ch'entrar  voy  nel  gracioso  bruolo, 
E  di  me  rivestir  il  tuo  dixio, 

Fa  ch'el  tuo  ymaginar  sempre  sia  pio,  5 

Ne  di  superbia  non  salir  in  suolo; 
Amato  ne  seray  per  tuto  il  stuolo, 
E  primamente  avray  gracia  da  Dio. 
Multi  vi  son  ch'el  fructo  guasta  atento, 
Et  altri  per  dileto  el  fiore  gusta,  10 

Ne  di  niun  di  loro  il  gusto  sento, 
Per  che  meglio  si  senta  la  lor  usta. 
Voglio  che  sopra  me  faci  comento 
SI  ch'el  si  veza  la  sentenza  giusta." 
Comiato  prexi,  et  el  mi  benedisse;  15 

El  suo  comento  poy  per  me  si  scrisse. 

M8.  I.     1  mainero. 

Var.  I.     10  qual     gli     fe    di     prima.      15  alto     regno.      16  debil 
ingiegno. 

Var.  11.     9  Alguno  Ve;    gusta.     10  E   alguno.     11  nullo. 


380  BRUSH  [6 


I.  "Una  sala  depincta  a  una  ystoria, 
Dice  il  maestro,  piu  rende  leticia 

Che  una  fata  per  altra  faticia, 

E  piu  s'attende  a  seguir  sua  memoria. 

Cossi  questo  zardin  te  presta  gloria  5 

De  vagi  fiori  e  de  fruto  divicia, 

L'un  saporita  e  l'altro  per  mundicia, 

Ti  mostra  relucente  sua  vitoria. 

Adoncha  acogli  quel  che  piu  t'agrada, 

O  voy  l'adorno  fiore,  o  '1  dolce  fructo,  10 

Tu  sei  de  liberta  su  rita  strada, 

E  se  trambe  te  piace,  cogle  el  tuto. 

E  Dio,  de  sua  sanctissima  roxada, 

Bagni  il  piccol  parlar  cotanto  suto. 

Parole  breve  porta  gran  consiglio,  15 

E  secha  gussa  sconde  bon  nosiglio." 

II.  Mostrando  a  voy  el  gracioso  amore, 
El  doctore  benigno  qui  presente, 
L'amicicia  deserta  di   sua  mente, 

Ut  juvet  et  prosit  ecco  per  gran  dolzore, 

Che  come  dice  Ysodoro  doctore,  5 

Per  nulla  forza  amicicia  se  pente, 

Siando  verace,   ne   mai  si   desmente, 

Per  che  tra  Paltre  possi  chiamar  fiore. 

Ecco  la  sala  pinta,  ecco  il  zardino, 

Ecco  il  fiore,  ecco  il  fruto  soave,  10 

Ch'esse  fuori  del  fior  cotanto  fino. 

Coglite  il  fiore  che  perfecta  chiave, 

El  fior  lasiate  stare  al  fantolino, 

Che  lezendo  gli  toglie  mente  prave. 

Ben  che  l'uno  per  l'altro  siano  buoni,  15 

Per  che  l'alegoria  meglio  disponi. 

Var.  I.  1  vagha  historia.  3  Che  quando  e  fatta.  7  Che  un  per 
sapore.     14  parlar  mio  tanto  asciutto.     16  sica  scorza. 

Var.  II.  2  dottor  mio.  3  Con  perfetta  amicicia.  4  Te  dinota 
fugire  ogni  dolore.  8  tra  le  virtu  se  chiama  il  fiore.  9  gloria  for 
zardino.  11  Che  nasce.  12  il  fruto.  13  fanciullino.  15  con  for 
per.     16  meglio  gli  exponi. 


7]  ESOPO  ZDCCARINO  381 


1.  Cock  and  Jewel. 

I.  Dice  il  maestro  ch'el  gallo  raspando 
En  el  letame  per  trovar  del  grano, 
Meravegliossi  ch  'el  ghe  vene  a  mano 
Una  preciosa  pietra,  et  el  parlando 

Disse :    "O  preciosa  «ossa,  in  quanto  bando  5 

Sei  posta  scuoxa  in  luoco  si  vilano! 

Se   Parti  fice   ti   fosse   prozano, 

Di  te  traria  sua  vita  lieto  stando. 

Per  me  non  fay,  e  io  de  te  non  euro; 

Piu  ameria  una  cossa  men  richa  10 

Che  dela  fame  me  fesse  securo." 

Cossi  l'ignorante  sempre  picha 

Contrario  de  fortuna  dov'  e  il  cuoro 

De  l'aspra  provertil  sempre  l'empicha. 

Si  come  il  gallo  sprexia  tal  semenza,  15 

Cossi  desprexia  il  mato  la  scienza. 

II.  Mostravi  il  gallo  qui  raspar  letoame, 
Cioe  l'uomo  quando  sta  in  mortal  pecato, 
Che  quando  dal  buon  homo  fi  consigliato 
Dice  che  ama  piu  trovar  il  grame, 

Cioe  di  pecati  il  doloroso  strame;  5 

E  cossi  contra  Dio  sta  sfigurato, 

Ay  doloroso   tristo   sciagurato! 

Che  non  gli  valera  puo  dir :   "  I'd  fame." 

Disprexia  poi  la  pietra  preciosa, 

Cioe  la  scienza,  et  ama  il  tristo  pasto  10 

Dela  gola  crudele  e  dolorosa. 

Cossi   l'uomo   cativo,   quando    al   tasto 

Si  da  cum  mente  vile  et  occiosa, 

SI  como  bestia  pud  portar  il  basto. 

Ma  fa  che  al  gallo  tu  non  assimiglie,  15 

II  bon  consiglio  vo  che  sempre  piglie. 

MS.  II,  15-16  lacking. 

Var.  I.     8  S'el  te  havesse  uno  artifice  soprano.     14  ogni  hor  for 
sempre. 

Var.  II.     4  gli   ama   piu   cerchar   tal   trame.     12  l'homo  maligno. 


382  brush  [8 


2.     Wolf  and  Lamb. 

I.  Partissi  il  lupo   del   prato  e  l'agnelo 

Per  trovar  l'aqua,  no  per  un  sentero, 
E  zaschadun  per  gran  sete  lezero 
Corse  ala  ripa  d'um  bel  timecello. 
Beveva  il  lupo  de  sopra  da  quello,  5 

E  disse  a  luy,  cum  malvaxio  pensiero: 
"Tu  me  turbidi  l'aqua,  e  per  lo  vero, 
Ne  poteristi  portar  grave  flagello." 
L'agnello  com  el  vero  si  scuxava: 
"Vero  nonne  che'l  flume  sia  turbato,  10 

Tu  mi  minaci."     II  lupo  ancor  cridava: 
"Cossi  mi  fe  tuo  padre,  falso  nato, 
Non  fa  sey  mexi."     E  cossi  il  devorava, 
Colpando  luy  del  injusto  peccato. 
D'offendre  al  justo,  il  falso  trova  l'arte,  15 

E  questi  lupi  regna  in  ogni  parte. 

II.  Or  vedi  il  lupo,  che  senza  caxone 

L'agnello  divord  cum  falso  frodo. 
Cossi  il  demonio  trova  l'arte  e'l  modo 
Di  tuorce  l'arme  cum  temptatione. 
Cossi  nel  mundo  le  false  persone  5 

D'offendre  il  justo  sempre  trova  il  nodo, 
Ne  si  ricorda  del  afito  chiodo, 
Ne  del  nostro  Segnor  la  pasione. 
Disse  San  Daniel:    Tu  condennasti 
Sangue  innocente,  or  torna  al  tuo  judicio.  10 

El  justo  e  confirmato  per  psalmista, 
Perd  vi  prego  voltate  la  vista 
Al  fonte  sancto,  dove  vi  lavasti, 
Si  che  tornati  al  sumo  beneficio. 

Var.  II.    4  tuorne  l'alme. 


9]  ESOPO  ZDCCARINO  383 


3.     Rat,  Frog,  and  Kite. 

I.  II  toppo  non  possando  far  sua  via 
Per  l'oprobrio  del  laco  che  II  giaoe, 
Veneli  contra  la  rana  loquace, 
Mostrando  ver  de  lui  la  cera  pia, 

E  proferisse  cum  lingua  polia  5 

De  condurlo  oltra,  et  a  quel  molto  piace. 

E  quela  falsa  di  mal  far  sagace 

Un  filo  a  pedi  lor  forte  mettia. 

La  rana  falsa,  quando  fo  nel  mezo, 

Rupe  sua  fede  per  condurlo  a  morte,  10 

Unde  convene  che  venisse  a  pezo; 

Ch'el  toppo,  aiutandosi  cum  volte  et  storte, 

Dal  nebio  foron  prexi  doivo  erezo 

Ch'ensieme  sofrise  amara  sorte. 

Cossl  perissa  chi  falsa  il  servire,  15 

E   per   l'ingano   pena   soferire. 

II.  Colui  che  may  no  dorme  per  far  male, 
E  per  condurci  al  infernale  hostello, 

Fa    l'uomo    desliale   falso   e   fello 

Per  condenar  coluy  ch'e  piQ  liale. 

Quando  ambiduy  son  in  pecca  mortale  5 

E  copulati   del   suo  capistrello, 

L'  inganato  si  chiama  miserello, 

Aitar  si  vuole  ma  nulla  gli  vale. 

Perd  non  creder  al  uomo  cativo 

Che  facto  rana  tuopo  no  ti  facia,  10 

Che  l'un  per  l'altro  male  se  nutricha. 

San  Gieronimo   dice:    Chi   phi  abraza 

Una  cossa  gli  mancha  dond'e  privo, 

Ch'el  non  ci  e  huomo  che  vero  gli  dica. 

Prova  I'amico  novo,  e  poi  te  fida,  15 

S'egli  e  Hal,  tien  quello  per  tua  guida. 

MS.  II.     15-16  lacking. 

Var.  I.  2  lo  obstacol.  4  facia  pia.  8  al  pie  di  quel  forte  ponia. 
11  ne  for  che.  12  II  toppo  aitar  se  vol  con  volte  storte.  13  Ma  dal; 
doudio  creggio.     14  Che  sostenero  insieme.     16  E  possa  ad  ingannar. 

Var.  II.  7  mischinello.  9  Perd  fa  che  non  credi.  11  assai  mal. 
14  Che  verun  huom  non  glie. 


384  BRUSH  [10 


4.  Dog  and  Sheep. 

I.  La  pegora  constreta  per  lo  cane 
Davanti  il  podesta  dove  comparse. 
Comanddgli   che   se  debia   acordarse 
O  che  gli  renda  lo  promiso  pane. 

Quella   negando   le   domande  vane,  5 

II   nibio,   l'a  vol  tore   e'l   lupo   parse, 

Et  in  favor  dal  can  testificarse 

Come  l'agnel  promise  la  dimane. 

Di  raxon  non  gli  de'render  a  quello, 

El  podesta  pur  vuol  ch'ela  il  contenti,  10 

Unde  conven  che  venda  il  propio  vello. 

Cossi  conven  che  sostegna  tormenti, 

E  del   inverno  l'aspero  flagello, 

E  fuor  d'ogni  pieta  li  fredi  venti. 

Cossi  per  lo  falsario  se  perisse,  15 

E  dolse  la  pieta  che  ciS  sofrisse. 

II.  Per  la  temptation   del  inimico 
Si   muove   l'uomo   contra   la   raxone, 
Talor  movendo  false  questione 

E  falso  prova  per  alcun  amico. 

Cossi  la  fede  prexia  men  d'un  fico  5 

Pur  che  spoliar  possa  l'altra  maxone, 

E  mendicando  fa  gir  le  persone, 

E  grami  son  se  gli  riman  un  spicho. 

Non  esser  milvo,  lupo  ne  avoltore, 

Non  esser  cane  a  dimandar  ingiusto,  10 

Non  esser  nel  mal  far  ubiditore; 

Ben   che   pietate  si   doglia  del   justo, 

Per  che  un  pocheto  tardi  il  Criatore, 

Subito  calla  il  suo  pesente  fusto. 

Se  mai  per  caso  fussi  a  dar  sentenza,  15 

Mira  que  testimonii  a  tua  presenza. 

MS.  I.     6  inbio;   11.,     12  be. 

Var.   I.     2  podestate  humil.     3   Qual    (first  word).     4   prestato 
pane.     13  il  gelido  flagello. 

Var.  II.     9  nibio  for  milvo.     14  potente  fusto. 


11]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  385 


5.    Dog  and  Shadow. 

I.  Passando  il  cane  supra  per  un  ponte, 
Portava  in  bocha  un  gran  pezo  di  carne, 
Pensando  ben  di  ley  sua  voglia  fame. 
Guard6  nel  aqua  del  chiarito  fonte 

E  vide  l'ombra  cum  tropo  piu  zonte,  5 

Che  mostrava  nel  aqua  zu  piu  carne. 

E  quel  sperando  aver  piu  da  manzarne 

Lascid  quella  che  avea  di  propia  sponte, 

Unde  cade  nel  aqua  zu  nel  fondo. 

Poy  drietro  si  zitd  per  aver  quella,  10 

La  qual  esser  paria  di  mazor  pondo, 

E  perse   la  speranza  vana  e  fella, 

E  la  propria  rimaxe  nel   profondo. 

Cossi  falsa  speranza  ne  martella. 

No  lassar  my  lo  certo  per  l'incerto,  15 

Senno  che  del  tuo  proprio  fie  diserto. 

II.  Ecoti  il  can  portar  la  carne  in  bocha, 
E  giu  nel  aqua  lasiarla  cadere, 
Sperando   magior   pezo   reavere, 

Poy  drieto  si  zitd  e  nulla  tocha. 

Cossi  travien  a  vuy  quando  s'imbrocha  5 

Gli  animi   a  questo  mondo  con  piacere 

Togliandosi  giu  del  divin  volere, 

Al  pezo  di   pecati  ogniun  s'invocha. 

Or  credi  tu  aver  parte  del  mondo 

E  lasiato  ay  la  divina  sustanza,  10 

E'l  mondo  tuto  ti  ritrovi  in  zanza. 

Adoncha  lasscia  la  mondana  usanza 

E  ritornati   al  primo  justo  pondo, 

Ch'el  non  trabuchi  la  justa  bilanza. 

Var.  11.     10  E   posseder   la.     11  Tenendo  quel   che   te   retiene   in 
zanze. 


24 


386  brush  [12 


6.     The  Lion's  Share. 

I.  Per  engualimente  seguir  la  fortuna 
Fece  compagnia  la  manza   e   lione, 

La  pegora  e  la  capra  in  tal  casone 

Ch'  el  se  partisse  la  caza  comuna. 

Un  cervo  mosse,  dunde  zascaduna  5 

Di  queste  fiere  ala  promissione 

Segondo  l'esser  dele  sue  persone 

Drieto  li  corse  e  a  morte  il  rauna. 

"Io  sero  herede  dela  prima  parte, 

Disse  il  leone,  per  lo  primo  honore,  10 

E  la  secunda  mi  deffende  Marte, 

Concedimi  la  terza  il  gram  labore, 

La  quarta  voglio,  se  no  ch'  el  se  parte 

El  nostro   amore."     E   cossi  fo  signore. 

Perd  questa  scriptura  no  eonsente  15 

Ch'  el   s'acompagne  il   tristo   col  possente. 

II.  Non  e  fermeza  in  la  gran  segnoria, 
N6  in  homo  richo  de  posanza  grande, 

Ne  per  sua  vogla  in  grande  gloria  scande. 

Perd  sempre  ti  servon  di  boxia, 

E  sempre  dice :   "  Come  io  dico,  fia."  5 

Cum  minazce  or  cum  parole  blande, 

Beuto  quello  che  cotal  girlande 

Schiva  de  firgli  dicto  cossi  sia. 

Doncha  schivate  le  mondane  zoglie, 

Ch'el  mondo  vi  promete  e  no  v'atende.  10 

Piu  cum  fece  il  lion  a  soy  compagni. 

Chi  serve  a  Dio  non  bisogna  se  lagni; 

Quest'e  coluy  c'ogni  promessa  atende, 

Per6  zaschun  di  cuor  faza  sue  voglie. 

Var  I.    3  a  tal  stagione.    8  e  denli  morte  bruna. 


13]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  387 


7.     Thief  and  Sun. 

I.  Mariddsse   la  dona  cun   un   ladro, 

Alegrasse    la   zente    come   sole. 
Un  savio  huomo  mosse  tal  parole: 
"  II   sole  essendo   zovene  e   lizadro, 
Tolse  mugliere  nel  suo  proprio  quadro,  5 

Unde  la  terra  molto  se  ne  dolle. 
A  Jupiter  lamentdssi  del  solle: 
'Or  vede,  signor  mio,  che  io  mi  disquadro; 
Per  un  sol  sole  son  distructa  e  morta, 
Or  duncha  que  faro  s'un  altro  nasse?  10 

Come  sofrir  potrd  pena  si  forta?' 
Cossi  convien  che  gli  animi  s'abasse 
De  dare  al  cativo  homo  lieta  scorta, 
Che  male  ariva  chi  el  cativo  passe. 
Che  non  securi  la  raxon  protesta,  15 

Qui  che  an  mal  facto  e  del  mal  far  s'apresta." 

II.  L'uomo   cativo   di   mal    far   non  cessa, 

Come  fa  l'onda  al   mar,   dixe  Ysaya, 
Ne  mala  mente  non  a  pace  pia. 
Prospero  qui,   ma  de  mal  far  opressa, 
Coluy  che  sempre  persevera  ad  essa,  5 

Despresiando  la  divina  via, 
Per  nuy  conven  che  desprexiato  sia, 
Ogni  sostegno   e  gracia  a   luy  dimessa. 
Non  si  convien  dar  moglier  a  costui, 
Per  che  la  terra  piu  ch'el  sol  scota,  10 

Ne  alegreza  fame  qui  tra  nuy. 
Or  zaschaun  lector  qui  faza  nota 
Che  quel  ch'  e  uso  a  rapinar  l'altruy 
Non  so  se  possa  far  mente  divota, 
Si  como  il  nostro  buon  doctore  insegna,  15 

Lassiate  tal  persona  com'e  diegna. 

Var.  I.  6  Volse  tuor  moglie.  11  A  tal  pena  soffrir  son  male  ac- 
corta.     15  Chi  non  soccorre  a  chi  ragion  si  presta.     16  far  non  resta. 

Var.  II.  3  E  mai  la  mente.  4  Prospera  si,  ma  dal  mal  far  e 
oppressa.     10  Dil   qual    la   mala   vita   se  dinota. 


388  brush  [14 


8.    Wolf  and  Cbane. 

I.  Manzando  il  lupo  la  carne  per  freza, 
Intrdgli  un  osso  nela  streta  gola. 
Apena  proferando   la  parola, 

Per  retrovar  un  medico  s'adrieza, 

Prometendogli  doni  d'alegreza  5 

Come  una  voce  di  pietate  mola. 

La  grua  in  questo  com  esso  s'anola 

E  l'osso  gli  cavO  cum  sua  destreza. 

La  sua  proferta  la  grua  domanda. 

Rispoxe  il  lupo:     "Per  me  sei  secura  10 

Dela  tua  vita  die  perigolava. 

Non  possemo  cum  la  mia  dentadura 

Tagiarti  il  collo?     Doncha  non  ti  grava 

A  cognoser  da  mi  la  via  fatura." 

Al  perfido  servir  perder  si  trova,  15 

Che  sempre  scognosente  esser  si  prova. 

II.  Or  vede  il  lupo  aver  in  gola  l'osso 
Et  esser  liberato  per  la  gruda, 

Et  ogni  sua  faticha  aver  perduda, 

Et  oltra  cid  cridalgli  il  lupo  adosso 

Come  tenuta  la  gruda  gli  fosso  5 

Quasi  che  a  vita  l'avesse  tenuda. 

Or  quivi  vostra  fede  ti  saluda, 

Che  dal  servire  may  non  sie  remosso; 

Se  l'uomo  rio  el  servixio  no  agrada, 

Lasial  portare  1'animo  protervo,  10 

Ch6  Dio  a  te  fara  larga  l'entrada. 

Dice  San  Paulo:  Io  me  feci  servo 

Libero  siando  per  trovar  la  preda, 

La  dove   phi  guadagno  mi  riservo. 

Se  tu  perdi  el  servir  del  uomo  rio,  15 

Troppo  mazor  e  la  gracia  de  Dio. 

Var.  I.  6  Con;  vola  for  mola.  7  La  grua  tal  voce  odendo,  laqual 
sola.  9  La  grua  poi  la  promessa.  13  Troncharti.  14  via  secura. 
15-16  Al  perfido  servir  noce  e  non  giova,  E  chi  gli  serve  pocha 
gratia  trova. 

Var.  II.  5-6  Come  se  con  ragione  fosse  mosso,  E  come  quella  gli 
fosse  tenuda.     9  Se  a  l'homo.     13  trovar  la  strada. 


15]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  389 


9.    Two  Bitches. 

1.  Una  cagnola  qual  era  de  parte 

Cum  sue  losenge  l'altra  cagna  prega, 
E  cum  dolce  parole  si  la  prega 
Che  del  suo  proprio  tecto  se  departe. 
La  pregna  stete  e  l'altra  via  se  parte,  5 

Dal  prego  facta  mata,  lorda  e  cega, 
E  mendicando  soa  vita  desprega 
Tanto  ch'en  parturi  quel  altra  parte. 
Domanda  il  tecto  suo  la  bona  cagna, 
L'altra  le  'rechie  chiude  e  si  la  cassa,  10 

E   si   di    minazarla    non   sparagna. 
E  per  lo  figiolo  suo  convien  che  taza 
Per  che  la  madre  sta  piu  ferma  e  stagna, 
Unde  si  parte  e  l'altra  ce  rimaxa. 
Non  e  fermeza  in  le  dolce  parole,  15 

Che  mal  e  danno  d'esse  sevir  sole. 

II.  Vedi  che  per  losinghe  sta  di  fuore 

La  bona  cagna,  scaciata  dil  tecto, 
L'altra  gli  latra  col  figlio  a  dispeto, 
E  partir  si  conven  cum  bruti  honori. 
Perd  convene  che  gli  humani  cuori  5 

Si  guardi  per  luxenge  aver  diffeto, 
E  non  lasciare  il  suo  continuo  leto 
Di  penitenza  per  alcun  furore. 
Cossl  giamay  non  ti  lasciar  scaciare 
Al  enemico  fuor  de  bona  fede  10 

Cum  sue  loxenge  sicome  suol  fare, 
Sta  pur  constante  a  quel  che  fermo  sede 
Che  qual  si  lacia  al  inimico  ugelare, 
A  caxa  non  ritorna  quando  crede; 
Or  sta  constante  e  troveray  mercede.  15 

Var.  I.  6  fatta  stolta  e  ciegha.  10  la  scaccia.-  14  E  quella  se 
ne  andd  come   una   paccia.     16  seguir. 

Var.  II.  10  Da  lo.  15-16  Al  lusenghier  non  dare  troppo  fede, 
Solo  a  Jesu  se  voi  trovar  mercede. 


390  BRUSH  [16 


10.     Man  and  Ungrateful  Serpent. 

I.  La  neve  sbianchezando  per  la  terra 
Come  gran  fredo  congelando  l'aque, 

Un  gelato  serpente  molto  piaque 

Al  pover  homo,  che  nel  grenbio  il  serra, 

Ad  un  gran  fuocho  scaldarlo  non  erra.  5 

E  come  fo  scaldato,  d'esso  naque 

Un  perfido  venim,  dove  despiaque 

Al  poverel  veder  guastar  sua  serra; 

Unde  ghe  disse:     "Va  senza  ritorno!" 

E  quello  obprobrio  non  vuol  ch'el  discaza,  10 

Movendo  crudel  si  voli  dintorno 

E  drito  ver  di  lui  drizd  sua  faza, 

Voglando  dar  a  quel  pessimo  zorno, 

Venim  zitando  luy  strenze  et  abraza. 

Sempre  il  mal  huomo  rende  mal  per  bene,  15 

Per  pieta  ingano,  e  per  lo  fructo  pene. 

II.  Tu  vedi  l'uomo  portar  il  serpente, 
t                E  la  neve  la  terra  sbianchezando, 

Per  che  ghiaziato  si   stava  tremando 
A  casa  s'il  portd  subitamente. 

Or  el  vidi  zitar  venim  dolente,  5 

La  casa  dil  bon  huomo  atoxicando, 
Ne  partir  non  si  vuol  per  suo  comando. 
Cossi  ti  fa  l'inimico  veramente, 
Tu  vidi  il  mondo  biancho,  chiaro  e  bello, 
Vedi  il  serpente,  zioe  mortal  pecato,  10 

i  Nel  cuori  il  porti  e  li  si  face  hostello. 

Quando  da  luy  vogli  fir  liberato, 
E  luy  t'abraza,  tristo  miserello, 
Ne    si    ligieramente    vien    scaciato. 
Perd  non  nutricar  li  peccati, 
Si  che  da  loro  siamo  liberati. 

MS.  15  mal  per  male. 

Var.   I.     10  E   quel   serpente   non   vol   lo   discacia.     11  sibili.     15 
bene   (last  word). 

Var.  II.     13  mischinello.     14  lievemente. 


17]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  391 


11.      BOAB    AND    ASS. 

I.  Coon  mato  riso  el  misero  asinello 
Tasto  il  porcho  cengiaro  e  si  se  misse 
Enver  del  forte  quel  cativo  ardisse 
Dir:    "Dio  ti  salvi,  caro  mio  fratello." 

Squasud  el  capo  il  porcho  e  za  per  ello  5 

Non  si  curld,  ma  forte  superbisse 

E  pocho  stando  ver  de  luy  si  disse: 

"Desprexia  la  vil  escha  il  dente  bello. 

Non  so  come  se  tegna  mia  fereza 

Che  non  ti  squarci  tuta  la  tua  pelle,  10 

Ma  sicuro  ti  fa  la  tua  mateza." 

Perd  mato  e  coluy  qual  cum  novelle 

Va  simulando  e  no  porta  chiareza 

Davanti  a  zintil  homo  suoe  loquelle. 

Non  si  fa  al  mato  temptar  il  poeta,  15 

Ne  zir  trepando  a  luy  cum  voglia  lieta. 

II.  L'uomo  ch'a  troppo  zanze  e  troppo  beffe 
E  si  dileta  d'ucelare  altruy, 

Costui  non  e  cognoscente  de  luy 

Ne  s'avede  che  z6  no  monta  un  effe. 

L'uomo  discreto  che  non  vuol  caleffe  5 

E  che  vorebe  viver  cum  nuy, 

Piil  no  possando  minaza  coluy 

Che  se  pid  zanza  di  menar  le  zeffe. 

Parola  recresievola  fa  injuria, 

Dice  qui  Dionixio  nil  suo  testo,  10 

Corumpando  costumi  mal  auguria. 

Per6  questo  ti  dico  e  ti  protesto 

Che  tu  ti  guardi  da  commover  a  furia 

Coluy  che  tuto  regie  a  fermo  sexto. 

Adoncha   nota   questo :  15 

"Giocha  quanto  ti  piace  come  fanti, 

Dic'el  proverbio,  e  lascia  star  i  sancti." 

Var.    I.     5-6  Conquassd  il  capo  il  porcho,  ne  per  ello  Pur  si  crold. 
Var.  II.     4  tutto  cid.     6  viver  ben  fra  noi.     10  chiaro  testo.     15 
Tu  dunque. 


392  brush  [18 


12.  Town  Mouse  and  Country  Mouse. 

I.  Con  chiaro  volto  il  topo  dala  villa 
Invito  secho  il  citadino  rato, 

Col  picol  mensa  ma  no  men  difato 

Dal  nobel  fronte  lor  cibi  sintilla. 

El  citadino  al  rustico  se  humilia  5 

E  dise:    "Fratel  mio,  quest'  altro  trato 

Convien  die  vegni  mecho  dove  6  fato 

La  vita  mia,  et  ancor  li  tranquilla." 

Mendlo  nel  celato  dove  carne 

Prexe  manzare.     Intanto  il  canevaro  10 

Zonae,  donde  zaschun  prexe  a  scampare. 

II  rustico  parl6  cum  gusto  amaro : 

"Nanci  voglio  la  fava  rosegare, 

Che  di  tal  pena  senpre  dubitare." 

La  povertade  e  richa  se  vien  lieta;  15 

Dove  timenza  alberga,  non  <#  meta. 

II.  Monstrati   anchora  il   sorzeto  vilano 
Farsi  cortexe  et  invitar  comesso, 

Con  nobel  fronte  e  con  bel  dir  apresso, 

Per  condur  ala  villa  il  topo  urbano; 

I  soy  cibi  lucean  dal  viso  humano.  5 

El  citadino  rato  sieco  adesso 

El  rustico  mend  donde  dicesso 

Fu  per  la  tema  del  sconder  sotano. 

Cossi  il  justo  invita  il  peccatore, 

Com  esso  luy  e  mostragli   la  fede,  10 

Per  trarlo  fuore  da  mortal  errore. 

PoBsa  l'injusto  cui  nemico  lede, 

Invita  il  justo  e  mostragli  il  terrore, 

Onde  si  scampa  e  pi  cum  luy  non  sede. 

Meglio  e  goder  il  pocho  ch'il  ben  cerno,  15 

Che  la  richeza  spetando  l'inferno. 

Var.  I.     8  che  anchor  fe  asai  tranquilla.     14  Che  star  in  cotal 
pena,  fratel  caro. 

Var.    II.  2    e    mandar    un    suo   messo.     5  Da   gli    soi    cibi    e   da. 


19]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  393 


13.    Eagle  and  Fox. 

I.  L'aquila  per  dar  cibo  a  lor  figlioli 
Porto  nel  nido  i  figli  dela  volpe. 
Quella  studendo  par  che  si  dispolpi, 
Pregando  ley  come  anguosioxi  duoli : 

"Aquila  che  pietoxa  eser  tu  suoli,  5 

Dey!   rendi  a  me  quelle  mie  propie  polpe, 

Che  sul  arbaro  tieni  senza  colpe. 

Pregoti  ch'al  mio  prego  tu  ti  muli." 

L'aquilla  nega   la  giusta  dimanda, 

Unde  la  volpe  l'alboro  cerconda  10 

Di  legna  e  frasce,  tuto  nel  girlanda. 

Poy  cago  fuoco  in  gascaduna  sponda, 

E  tanto  fumme  agli  aquiloti  manda 

Che  i  figli  scosse,  dove  fu  jocunda. 

Non  voglia  ofendre  il  mazor  al  menore,  15 

Che  ben  pud  ofendre  il  minor  al  mazore. 

II.  L'aquila  tolse  ala  volpe  lor  figli 
E  portdsegli  suxo  nel  suo  nido. 

La  volpe  udendo  di  figlioli  il  strido 
Convien  che  a  rescatarli  si  sotigli. 
*  L'alboro  cerconda  de  vimine  e  stigli  5 

E  fuoco  gli  cago  senza  disfido. 
L'aquila  per  schivar  di  figli  el  crido 
I  suoy  gli  resse  con  cruciati  pigli. 
Eccoti  Idio!  per  nuy  deliberarni 

Mandd  il  figliolo  al  aquila  superba,  10 

A  quel  nemico  che  volea  disfarni. 
Eccoti  il  fumme,  ecco  la  pena  acerba 
Che  sostene  l'inferno  a  relasiarni, 
No  sperando  gamay  gustar  tal  erba. 
Cristo  portd  la  pena  di  peccati  15 

Nostri,  donde  siamo  liberati. 

MS.  II.     9  deliberarni. 
Var.  /.la  soi.    3  stridendo.     8  amoli. 

Var.  II.     8  con  gli  proprii  artigli.     11  Cioe  for  A.     15-16  portO  per 
gli  nostri  peccati  Morte  crudel  per  cui  siam. 


394  brush  [20 


14.     Eagle  and  Tortoise. 

I.  L'aquila  mossa  dela  vaga  cima 
Prese  nel  prato  la  bissa  squara, 

E  quella  cum  la  concha  se  repara, 

Che  dal  becho  aquilin  non  se  delima. 

E  la  cornice  cum  sagace  lima  5 

L'aquila  castigando  disse:      "Empara 

A  spandre  il  cibo  che  da  te  s'apara 

Quale  nutriente  a  far  lucida  pima, 

S'ela  cadesse  di  somo  altitudine, 

Ruperiase  la  concha  che  la  serra,  10 

Si  che  manzar  poresti  la  testudene." 

L'aquila  il  fe,  donde  sopra  la  terra 

Sparse  tuta  quela  dulcitudine, 

Qual  subito  per  se  la  grola  aferra. 

La  savia  lingua  e  falsa  molto  offende,  15 

Ch'el  forte  per  inzegno  liga  e  prende. 

II.  Se  tu  ben  guardi  qui,  l'aquila  prexe 
Una  bissa  squara  nel  bel  prato, 

E  si  coperta  tien  per  ogni  lato 

Che  dal  becho  aquilim  si  fa  difexe. 

Ancora  vedi  le  false  contexe  5 

Che  la  grola  gli  mostra  per  suo  grato, 

Per  aver  quello  che  s'a  ymaginato, 

Gli  mostra  il  modo  a  portarla  suspexe. 

Cossi  stimando  il  buon  in  penetenca, 

Gli  corre  subito  el  pecato  adosso,  10 

Quel    si   diffende    per    la   soferenga. 

Dic'el  dimonio:      "Convien  che  comosso 

Fia  costui  via  dala  ubidienca, 

E  da  piu  grave  temptation  percosso." 

Com'el  se  parte  da  servir  a  Dio,  15 

Cossi  s'el  porta  1'enemico  rio. 

Var.  I.     7  Spargier  quel  cibo.     15  la  lingua  astuta. 

Var.  II.    9  stando  for  stimando.     10  va  for  corre.     12  remosso. 


21]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  395 


15.  Fox  AND  CBOW. 

I.  Trovo  nel  libro  del  maestro  mio 
Che  la  volpe  afamata  pasturando 
Un  corvo  vide,  che  un  caxo  portando 
In  becho  andava.     Donde  gli  andd  drio, 

E  quela  a  luy  col  suo  parlar  pio:  5 

"Tu  che  sul  arbor  ti  vay  diportando, 

Cotanto  adorno  e  bello  e  vagezando, 

E  sopra  ogiii  altro  uzello  biancho  e  polio, 

Tu  mi  somigli  al  cigiio  di  parazo. 

Se  del  tuo  canto  sol  fosse  contcnta,  10 

Certo  tu  vinci  tuti  d'avantazo." 

El  mato  a  grolezar  si  spromenta, 

Unde  di  becho  gli  cade  il  formazo; 

La  volpe  il  prexe,  donde  il  corvo  stenta. 

La   vanagloria   ti   mostra   dolgeza  15 

Che  vergogna  ti  rende  e  gran  tristeza. 

II.  Quando  la  volpe  pasturando  andava, 
Sul  alboro  si  stava  il  corvo  etaxo, 

E  vide  il  corvo  che  portava  il  caxo. 

Che  cantasse  luy  amaistrava, 

E  quella  tuta  volta  il  loxengava  5 

Per  poner  il  formazo  nel  suo  vaxo. 

Coluy  credendo  al  judayco  baxo, 

A  cantar  prexe  e'l  formaio  lasciava. 

Cossl  ti  fa  il  doloroxo  baxo  mondo 

Che  ti  porze  richeza  e  tu  la  porti,  10 

E  non  ricorda  di  pecati  il  pondo. 

I  quali  sempre  guarda  e  stan  acorti 

A  condurti  di  povertate  al  fondo. 

Cossl  dal  enimico  aiamo  scorti, 

Che  sempre  ci  conforta  a  falsi  canti  15 

Per  condur  l'anima  a  doloroxi  pianti. 

MS.  II.  As  partially  indicated  by  letters  in  the  margin,  the  manu- 
script order  is  involved,  the  lines  running  1,  2,  4,  7,  3,  5,  6,  9,  8, 
11,  10.     The  order  followed  is  that  of  the  1479  edition. 

Var.  I.     12  1497  a  gloriar  si  se  exprimenta;   1483  agrolizar. 

Var.  II  2  corvo  adaso.  4  Per  che  di  bel  cantar  lo  amaistrava. 
9  fa  sto  dolloroso  mondo.     16  Per  menar. 


396  brush  [22 


16.     Old  Lion  Sick. 

I.  Per  la  vechieza  il  posente  lione 
Indormentosi  suoi  membri  possenti, 
E  per  lo  fredo  persse  i  sentimenti, 
Ne  se  puo  mover  per  nulla  raxone. 

Unde  il  ciengiaro,  per  vechia  questione,  5 

Una  gran  piaga  gli  fe  cum  sui  denti, 

Et  anche  il  toro  cum  corni  ponzenti 

Luy  perforS  per  ambeduy  galoni. 

Rietro  costoro  il  misero  asinello, 

Zetando  calci  cum  fera  tempesta,  10 

Nel  fronte  del  lion  fece  sagiello. 

Unde  el  lion  come  occupata  testa 

Disse:      "Multi  6  scampati  da  flagiello 

Che  nela  mia  misera  mi  molesta." 

Tema  quel  caso  quel  che  no  a  amico,  15 

Che  pochi  aid'a  colui  ch'e  mendico. 

II.  Quando  meglio  ti  segue  la  fortuna 
E  che  piu  fermo  sula  rota  sedi, 

Si  com'el  mare  subito  tu  cedi, 

Poy  riman  bassa  d'aqua  tua  laguna. 

Tulio  non  solo  la  vista  fa  bruna,  5 

Fortuna  e  chi  la  segue  cossi  vedi, 

Tu  medesimo  non  senti  se  ti  ledi, 

Ne  se  tuo  amico  fia  persona  alguna. 

Vien  il  dimonio  e  forate  le  coste 

Cun  le  corne  per  lo  mortal  pecato,  10 

E  justicia  ti  squarza  l'altra  poste. 

De  pecati  nel  fronte  sugielato 

Seray;  non  ti  vara  dire:     "Za  hoste 

Fui,  e  servi,  ed  or  sum  flagielato." 

Che  tu  servivi  al  mondo  miserello,  15 

PerS  di  calci  ti  da  Pasinello. 

Var.  I.    16  Che  puocho  adjuto  ha  quel  che  vien  mendico. 

Var.II.  After  line  16  are  two  lines  of  Latin  translated:  Non  e 
senza  gran  colpa  ad  impazarte  De  quel  che  non  te  tocha  e  n'e  tua 
arte. 


23]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  397 


17.    Ass  and  Lap-dog. 

I.  E  come  alegreza  un  cucolin  zentile 

Vag6  trepando  com  el  suo  signore, 
Mostravagli  il  signor  perfecto  amore, 
Di  dolci  cibi  e  vivande  sotile. 

Questo  vezando  l'aseneto  vile.  5 

Disse:     "Per  scrici  costui  sie  mazore 
Di  me,  chi  me  fatico  cum  dolore; 
Forsi  s'io  ziocho,  grander^  mio  stile." 
E  rito  si  lev6  forte  ragiando, 

I  pedi  algadi  sule  spalle  posse  10 

Al  suo  signor,  che  se  levd  cridando. 
Unde  i  famigli  sentando  tal  cosse 
Cum  grave  maze  luy  zi  va  batando, 
Facendo  luy  sentir  pene  dogliose. 
A  forzar  la  natura  non  e  licito,  15 

E  spiace  il  mato  nel  piacer  solicito. 

II.  Giugava  col  signore  il  cuzolino, 

E  l'asino  si  gli  vuol  simigliare, 
E  col  signore  se  mise  a  trepare, 
Credendosi  piQ  bel  d'um  armerino. 
I    fanti   quando  vide   tal   distino  5 

L'asino  forte  prexe  a  bastonare, 
E  cum  gran  bote  via  da  luy  scaciare, 
E  cossl  gli  respoxe  a  suo  latino. 
Cossi  e  l'uomo  che  vive  in  virtute 
E  serve  a  Dio  e  cum  solaza,  10 

Che  com'el  cuzolim  gli  da  salute. 
Eccot'il  vicio  ch'el  buon  homo  abraza, 
Cioe  l'asino  cum  voce  disolute, 
E  quel  atento  da  se  il  cride  scaza, 
Poy  di  virtute  viene  i  fidel  servi  15 

Cal  vicio  rompe  ossa,  polpe  e  nervi. 

M8. 1.     13  mze. 

Var.  I.     1  cagnolin.    6  scherci.     13  macie. 

Var.  II.     1  cagnolino.     3  se  puose.     5  Gli  servi.     10  con  buona 
efficacia.     11  al  cagnolin. 


398  brush  [24 


18.     Lion  and  Mouse. 

I.  La  freda  silva  un  zorno  loxengava 
El  sopito  lion  che  dentro  jace, 
Intanto  zonse  un   ratolin  sagace, 
Ch'entorno  del  lion  prompto  zugava. 

El  lion  il  prese  cum  sua  brancha  prava,  5 

E'l   toppo   disse :    "  O   possanza  tenace, 

Misericordia  ti   domando   e   pace." 

Dal  prego  mosso,  il  lion  luy  lassava 

E  disse:     "Al  vincitore  e  tanta  gloria 

Quant'e  la  possa  di  quel  che  perdente,  10 

Si  che  vincer  costuy  no  m'e  memoria." 

Cade  nel  rete  quel  lion  posente, 

Possa  dal  topo  ebi  la  victoria, 

Ch'el  fune  roxego  col  fero  dente. 

Tu  chey  possente  sempre  fui  al  picolo,  15 

Che  scanpa'r  ti  poria  de  gran  pericolo. 

II.  Qui  vi  figura  il  doctor  molto  bene 
Che  la  gloria  del  vincitore  e  tanta 
Quanto  la  possa  del  vinto  s'amanta, 
Ch'al  piu  possente  vincer  si  convene. 

Ma  quando  vince  un  tristo,  questo  vene  5 

Che  vile  ystoria  poy  di  luy  si  canta. 

Al  pizol  fa  gracia  larga  e  spanta, 

Per  che  giovar  ti  pu6  nele  tue  pene. 

Per  servir  no  si  perde,  anci  s'aquista, 

Dice  Ysaya  sovente  al  enfermo.  10 

Retien  la  furia  tuta,  dic'el  psalmista, 

Da  carita  procede,  e  It  sta  fermo, 

El  gracioso  dono  a  Dio  fa  vista, 

E  contra  l'inimico  gli  fa  scermo. 

Perd  zaschun  s'alista  15 

Di  sovenir  i  tristi  povereti, 

E  Idio  ve  guardara  da  mal  deffecti. 

MS.  II.     Has  lines  12  and  13  in  reverse  order,  not  according  to 
the  metrical  scheme. 

Var.  II.    3  s'avanta.     7  larga  e  sancta.     15  insista. 


25]  ESOPO  ZUCCAEINO  399 


19.    Young  Kite  Sick. 

I.  El  nebio  infermo  pregava  la  madre 
Che  Dio  pregasse  cuz  benigno  effecto, 
Che  liberasse  luy  dal  crudel  leto, 
Offerendo  per  luy  done  ligadre. 

La  madre  a  luy :  "  Col  tuo  vicio  disquadre  5 

L'animo  a  Dio,  per  tuo  grave  diffeto, 

Usando  la  rapina  per  dileto 

Cum  falsi   inzigni  e  cum  parole   ladre, 

Possa  che  turbato  ay  li  nostri  dei, 

Voglion  egli  che  tu  porti  la  pena  10 

Del  pecato  dove  tu  degno  sey. 

Prima  che  tu  cadesti  in  tal  catena 

Pensar  dovevi  nelli  acessi  rey, 

Che  come  umilita  cossi  ti  mena." 

Perd  chi  fa  sua  vita  nei  pecati,  -  15 

Non  abia  fede  de  star  nei  beati. 

II.  Fin  che  l'uomo  sta  fermo  in  sua  bontade, 
Ardito,   forte,  giovene,   possente, 

El  non  si  pensa  may  nela  sua  mente 

Che  gli  possa  venire  adversitade. 

Dixpresia  Dio  e  la  sua  maiestade,  5 

Uxando  ingani  e  robando  la  zente, 

E  sempre  nei  mal  far  e  soferente, 

Fina  che  Dio  gli  tuol  prosperitade. 

Possa  si  torna  a  sancta  madre  chiexia, 

Pregando  ley  che  de  tanti  diffeti  10 

El  cavi,  e  contra  Dio  faza  difexa. 

E  quela  dice:     "Per  gli  tuoy  dispeti, 

Dio  vuol  che  vadi  rito  ala  distexa, 

Dove  si  purga  i  mondani  dileti." 

Perd  fin  che  tu  vivi  in  questo  mondo,  15 

Fa  che  salvar  ti  possi  dal  profundo. 

MS.  I.    13  nlli. 

Var.I.    2  con  benigno.     4  cose  ligiadre.     13  excessi.     14  Humilita 
non  e  che  hora  ti  mena. 


400  brush  [26 


20.     Swallow  and  Birds. 

I.  La  terra  nudrigando  la  somenza 
Del    lino   per   che    lino    dinasesse, 
La  rondinella  a  consiglio  si  messe 

Cum  gli  altri  ucelli,  alegando  sentenza: 

"Se  a  questo  non  faciamo  providenza,  5 

Morte  siamo  se  quel  lino  cresce." 

Ucel  non  fo  che  non  si  ne  ridesse, 

Isprexiando  sua  chiara  eloquenza. 

El  lino  cressce  e  fa  l'erbeta  bella, 

La  rondinella  ancor  consiglia  queli  10 

Contra  el  pericolo,  e  lor  ridem  de  quella. 

Per  lo  qual  cossa  se  parti  da  elgli, 

A  l'uomo  s'acordo  cum  sua  loquella, 

Unde  nel  rete  cade  i  altri  uceli. 

Chi  lassa  il  buon  consiglio  per  lo  rio,  15 

Cade  nel  rete  quant'e  piu  scaltrio. 

II.  Se  alguno  cum  buon  modo  a  te  vera, 
Entendi  bene  e  pensati  ben  sil, 

Se  il  suo  consiglio  ti  rende  salu, 

Ancora  pensa  che  seguir  porra. 

Posa  faray  quel  che  te  ne  parra,  5 

Ne  disprexiar  il  buon  consiglio  tu, 

Velox  ad  audiendum  sie  tu  piu. 

Jacobo   dice:    El   parlar   tardera. 

E  se  per  caso  tu  consigliti, 

E  tu  cognosi  il  perigol  che  c'e,  10 

E  creduto  non  fia  come  tu  di, 

Senza  voglierli  dir  piu,  cossi  fe, 

Fati  rondena  e  tuote  via  de  II, 

E  digli  "Mai  volete!"    E  cossi  ste. 

Prendi'l  consiglio  de  servir  a  De,  15 

E  non  curar  del  mondo  iniquo  e  re. 

Varl.     11  Contra  il  suo  male. 

Var.  II.     7  sie  ogn'  hor.     14  E  cosi  habie. 


27]  B80P0  ZUCCARIXO  401 


21a.     Citizens  of  Athens. 

I.  Attene  civita  chiexe  sigiiore 
Per  aver  de  justicia  nove  seze, 

E  la  sua  libertil  propria  dileze, 

Credondosi  per  questo  fir  mazore. 

Ecco  multiplicar  il  suo  dolore,  5 

E  rinovar  statuti  e  nove  leze, 

Poiier  il  giovo  nele  humane  greze, 

E  qual  potea  schivar  senza  rimore. 

El  signor  coniinzo  statuti  novi 

Dilacerando  qui  chi  era  colpevoli,  10 

E  tuto'l  primo  stato  par  che  rimovi. 

I  citadini,  qual  eram  uxevoli, 

Di  far  sua  voglia  e  vincer  le  lor  prove, 

Convien  che  stea  sozeti  e  raxonevoli. 

Exopo  vide  la  terra  dolente,  15 

E  muove  per  exempio  lo  dir  seguente. 

II.  O  civita  dolente!   o  falso  hostello! 
0  di  ma  1  ii-i:t  pregna  in  ogni  calle, 
Piena  di  tradimenti  in  monti  e  valle, 
Che  mo  ti  segnoreza  Lucibello! 

O  mondo  injusto!   mondo  topinello!  5 

Dio  te  fe  francho,  e  volte  gli  ai  le  spalle! 

Non  vede  tu  ch'el  domonio  t'arsalle, 

Se  Dio  non  pensa  remedio  novello? 

Atennea  chenne  prima  fusti  francha, 

E  volisti  tirarti  a  tirania,  10 

Che  mutando  costumi  ti  fa  stancha, 

O  vuy  che  disiderate  signoria, 

Pensateve  quando  sedete  in  bancha 

Que  risposta  pud  aver  l'anbasaria, 

La  verzene  Maria  15 

Faza  prego  al  suo  figlio,  se  gli  piace, 

Che  tra.  nuy  mande  sua  perfecta  pace. 

Tar.  I.  8  II  che  potea  schiffar  senza  dolore.  HE  tuto  quel  stado 
par  che  rinovi. 

Var.II.  5  injusto,  tristo  e  tapinello.  7  non  porgie.  16  figliol 
benigno.  After  the  fable  is  a  Latin  couplet  headed  Seneca,  trans- 
lated: Justicia  ferma  la  sua  signoria,  Se  con  dementia  temperata 
sia. 


25 


402  BRUSH  [28 


21b.     Fbogs  Desiring  King. 

I.  Supplicdsse  le  rane  al  sumo  Jove, 
Che  gli  desse  segnor,  che  non  n'avea, 
E  luy  del  vano  prego  se  ridea, 

Ma  pur  si  mosse  ale  domande  nove. 

Un  ligno  grande  fa  che  d'alto  piove,  5 

E   nel   laco   percosse,   unde  fagea 

Le  rane  tute.    Ma  quando  vedea 

El  suo  signore  che  niente  si  muove, 

A  Jupiter  torno  subitamente. 

El  qual,  comosso  subito  per  ira,  10 

Mand6gli  un  ydro,  perfido  serpente. 

Coluy  le  ucide,  coluy  a  se  le  tira, 

Unde   merce   dimanda   humelmente 

A  Jupiter,  ch'el  mondo  volze  e  zira. 

Sia  lieto  quelo  c'a'l  debito  suo;  15 

Non  esser  d'altri,  se  poy  esser  tuo. 

II.  Vedi   le  rane  supplicar   a  Dio 
Che  non  gli  lasse  star  senza  segnore, 
E  luy  ridendo  de  cotal  errore 
Mandogli  un  travo  che  sta  quieto  e  pio. 

Ben  che  teme9se  del  cadel  che  fio,  5 

Ancor  torno  a  dimandar  priore. 

Idio  comosso  ad  ira  cum  furore, 

Un  serpe  gli  mandO,  mortal  e  rio. 

Prima  concesse  Dio  la  libertade, 

E  poy,  vegiando  nuy  pigliar  ria  parte,  10 

Mando  il  figliolo  pien  di  humilitade, 

E  nuy  segundo  pur  in  pezo  l'arte, 

Mandd  il  demonio,  pien  de  crudelitade, 

Che  nuy  devora  e  liga  cum  suo  sarte. 

Possa  voglan  tornar  a  dir  mercede  15 

Quando   serrati   sciamo   nele   rede. 

Var.  I.     6  E  nel  luoco  percosse  ove  stasea. 


29]  ESOPO  ZDCCARINO  403 


22.     Doves,  Kite  and  Hawk. 

I.  Dice  il  maestro  che  una  grande  guerra 
Era  tra'l  nebio  e  le  colunbe  bianche, 

Et  eram   per   l'asedio  tanto  stanche 
Che  quasi  per  padura  si  soterra. 
E  per  suo  scampo  al  sparavier  s'aferra,  5 

Per  che  di  capitaneo  stava  manche. 
Tenendosi  per  luy  libere  e  franche, 
Libero  albitrio  gli  dona  e  diserra. 
Mangiava  il  sparaver  i  lor  pizoni, 
,  Unde  le  madre  querondi  lor  nati,  10 

Dispersi  fuori  per  le  lor  maxoni, 
Tra  lor  dicendo:     "Melius  bella  pati 
Era  che  morir  senza  questioni, 
Che    piu    siamo    dal    re   dampnizati." 
Se  tu  fay  cossa  alguna,  gurda'l  fine  15 

A  cid  ch'en  le  piu  grave  non  ruyne. 

II.  Faceano  guerra  il  nibio  e  le  columbe, 
Cossl  cum  poverta   faciamo  nuy, 

E  per  paura  degli  morsi  suoy 

Al  sparavier  se  diamo  cum  le  fombe. 

Cid  al  pecato  per  schivar  lor  gronbe,  5 

Corre  il  peccato  e'l  dimonio  cum  luy 

De  Palme  nostre,  lasiandoci  nuy, 

Divorando  le  vano  a  false  trombe. 

Per  la  roba  vogliamo  perder  l'alme, 

Robando,  rapinando,  e  dando  a  usura,  10 

Ne  Dio  curamo,  ne  sue  sante  psalme, 

E  quando  Idio  a  zd  trovava  mensura, 

Merce  queriamo,  batendo  le  palme, 

Ma  no  possiamo  render  la  pastura. 

L'enjuria  de  Dio  e'l  mal  tolesto  15 

Mostra  che  fazi  al  suo  voler  aspeto. 

Var.  II.    4  frombe.     5  Cioe.     8  Devorando  le  va  con.     16  Vol  che 
ne  aspetti  la  vendetta  presto. 


404  brush  [30 


23.     Dog  and  Thief. 

I.  Una  note  per  andar  a  furare 
Si  mosse  uii  ladro,  dond'el  fero  cane 
Forte  latrava,  e  quel  gli  porse  un  pane. 
El  cane  alora  comincid  a  parlare: 

"Qel  cibo  fello  che  me  voy  donare  5 

Vuol  ch'io  consenti  le  tue  voglie  vane, 

Le  quale  da  mia  mente  son  lontane, 

Per  che  dal  cibo  mio  mi  ere  scaciare. 

Se  non  ti  parti  tosto,  il  can  parlava, 

Col  mio  latrar  ti  faro  manifesto  10 

Dal  furto  che  far  vuol  tua  mente  prava." 

E  cossi  il  cane  valoroso  e  presto 

II  ladro  com  el  crido  discazava, 

Faciando  el  gusto  suo  puro  e  modesto. 

Gurda  quel  che  recevi  e  quel  che  day,  15 

E  tu  proprio  glioton  chastigheray. 

II.  El  ladro  per  voler  cometer  male, 
El  cane  dolcemente  si  loxinga 

Che  tacer  debia  e  de  dormir  s'infinga. 

Un  pan  gli  porse,  e'l  can  disse:  "Che  vale 

I  ladronici  toy  mostrar  cotale,  5 

Che  vuol   che   dal   mio   cibo   mi   ristrenga? 

Or  tosto  parti,  o  dardti  la  stringa, 

E  per  lo  mio  latrar  colpo  mortale." 

Coast  el   enemico   ti    da   tentacione, 

Per  trarti  fuora  del  divino  amore,  10 

E  che  tu  segui  lor  operacione. 

Or  doncha  servi  Dio,  nostro  Signore, 

E  come  psalmi  e  buone  oracione 

Da  te  discacia  il  falso  proditore. 

E  si  liale  al  tuo  mondan  signore  mazore,  15 

Che  per  la  lialta  se  aquista  honore. 

MS.  II.     16  lacking. 

Var.  I.    8  mi  vol.     16  gioton. 

Tar.  II.     6  da   questo   cibo.     12  siegui   Dio. 


SI]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  405 


24.     Wolf  and  Sow. 

I.  Parlava  il  lupo  ad  una  porcha  pregna: 
"Comadre  mia,  in  questa  vostro  parte 

Mi  proferischo  de  volerte  aitarte, 

E  del  tuo  grezo  aver  cura  benegna." 

La  porcha  ver  dil  lupo  si  disdegna,  5 

E  disse:     "A  me  non  bixogna  tua  arte, 

Ne  il  eorpo  mio.     Lascia  digno  arte 

De  nutrir  quiglie  che  dentro  vi  regna. 

Or  sta  lontano  a  gid  che  piu  secura 

Parturir  possa  la  mia  vita  cheta,  10 

Che  di  tuo  aito  mia  parte  non  cura." 

Colluy  se  parte  e  quela  stete  lieta. 

Per  gli  tuo  figli  comanda  natura 

Che  tu  temi  i  parenti  senza  meta. 

Non  creder  tuto  a  tuti  in  ogni  pacto,  15 

Chi  matamente  crede  e  tenuto  mato. 

II.  S'el  vien  alcun  di  cuy  tu  non  ti  fidi, 
Mostrandosi  d'aitarte  al  tuo  bixogno, 
Digli:     "Amico  mio,  el  non  fa  sogno 
Per  questa  volta  che  tu  te  convidi." 

Simelmente  cum  la  porcha  vidi  5 

Verso  dil  lupo  ridrizar  el  grogno, 

Che  sti  lontano  anchor  gli  da  ranpogno, 

Che  piu  sicura  possa  far  suo  cridi. 

Cossi  coluy  che  sta  in  mortal  pecato, 

Se'l  vene  a  te  per  voler  consigliarti,  10 

Quanto  piu  tosto  poy,  dallo  commiato, 

Ch'el  suo  consiglio  sempre  e  per  disfarti 

E  tuorti  dal  amor  de  Dio  beato. 

Or  guarda  ben  de  lasciarti  alazato. 

Chi  crede  tutto  cid  che  I'ode  dire,  15 

Vergogna  e  danno  gli  convien  seguire. 

MS. I.     7  co  marked  for  omission  before  mio. 
//.     15-16  lacking. 

Var.I.    7  N6  al  corpo  mio.     8  quelli. 

Var.II.    3  mi  par  un  sogno.     5  qual  for  cum.     11  dagli  combiato. 
14  ben  che  non  lassi  allaciarti. 


406  brush  [32 


25.     Mountain  in  Travail. 

I.  Crescie  la  terra  como  un  gran  tumore, 
E  come  un  aspro  son  quel  tumor  gieme, 
Raundssi  la  zente  tuti  insieme 
Temandosi  di  tanto  rimore; 

Ad  arme  corse  cum  grave  furore  5 

Come  color  cli'el  forte  caso  tieme. 

Ecco  la  terra  dessa  un  topo  preme, 

E  ritornd  nel  eser  suo  priore. 

Torno  quela  paura  in  alegreza, 

Vegiando  si  gran  facto  far  si  puocho,  10 

Che  si  mostrava  di  tamanta  aspreza. 

Cos!  rimaxe  quela  giente  in  giocho, 

Aliviate  da  quela  fereza, 

Che  dimostrava  uscir  di  cotal  luocho, 

Sovente  men  fa  colui  che  pu  crida,  15 

E  pizol  caso  gran  timenza  guida. 

II.  Come  la  terra  vene  al  tumor  grande, 
Cossi  vien  1'uomo  grande  in  questo  mondo, 
Ogni  or  piu  cresse  e  fassi  piu  facondo, 
E'l  nome  suo  per  tuto'l  mondo  spande. 

Per  tema  i  citadini  le  arme  prende,  5 

Ciofe  di  misiricordia  el  justo  pondo. 

Eccoti  el  tristo  cader  giu  nel  fondo, 

Disgonfiarsi,  ne  pi  timenza  stando. 

Homo  che  fay  questo  mondo  tristo, 

Sgonfiati  di  superbia  e  de  pecati !  10 

Ne  ti  ricorda  de  servir  a  Cristo, 

Da  te  gli  offexi  reman  liberati, 

Quando  tu  schiopi  de  pecati  misto, 

E  per  mal  fare  cadi  tra  damnati, 

Quanto  hay  fato  e  men  d'un  ratolino,  15 

Et  ay  perduto  il  summo  amor  divino. 

Var.I.     11  cotanto  asprezza. 
Var.  II.    8  ne  piu  temenza  scande. 


33]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  407 


26.    Lamb  and  Goat   Mother. 

I.  Zugando  cum  le  capre  el  biancho  agnello, 
Vene  li  il  lupo  cum  dolce  parole, 

E  disse:     "Figliol  mio  ehe  tetar  sole 

El  dolce  laote  gracioso  e  bello, 

Come   poy  sofrire  in  tanto  fello  5 

E  putrido  sentir  di  capre  molle. 

La  madre  tua,  ch'e  qui,  di  te  si  duolle, 

Or  vien  tosto  da  ley  dulci  fratello." 

Disse  l'agnello:     "La  capra  mi  presta 

Come  mia  madre  dolcissimo  lacte,  10 

E  cossi  mi  nutrisse  e  mi  modesta, 

Si  che  le  voglie  mie  nanci  son  fate 

Con  le  capre  de  far  mia  vita  honesta, 

Che  contentar  la  gola  che  te  bate." 

Non  e  cossa  che  avangi  il  buon  consiglio,  15 

Che  per  lo  rio  discende  gran  periglio. 

II.  Stiando  l'agnello  nel  barco  gregie, 
Cioe  nel  gregio  di  sancti  pastori, 
Goldando  l'uomo  nei  beati  cori. 
Eccoti  il  lupo  cum  parole  sbiegie, 

L'enimico  ch'el  barbato  diliegie,  5 

Per  farti  perder  cossi  duolci  fiori. 

Mostrandoti  del  mondo  i  vani  honori, 

A  se  ti  chiama  nele  triste  segie. 

Ecco  tua  madre,  ecco  la  ria  speloncha, 

Ecco  il  buon  lacte,  eccoti  il  fuocho  eterno  10 

Ch'el  demonio  ti  vuol  porgier.     Adoncha 

Segui  l'agnello  e  fuzeray  l'inferno. 

Nela  tua  mente  da  Dio  non  si  troncha, 

E  cossi  goderay  nel  ben  superno. 

Var.  II.     1  nel  barbato  greggie.    4  parole  spreggie. 


408  brush  [34 


27.     Old  Dog  and  Master. 

I.  El  cane  armato  di  forte  natura, 

Lizero,  forte,  zovene  e  possente, 
Dal  suo  signore  amato  fortemente, 
Ulcidea  molte  fere  ala  verdura. 

Secondo  che  ci  reze  la  ventura,  5 

Vechio  diventa,  donde  perse  i  denti. 
Un  giorno  prexe  un  lepore  corrente, 
Quel  disarmato  lascid  la  pastura. 
La  furia  dil  signore  bate  il  cane, 

E  luy  rispoxe:     "Fin  ch'ebi  l'etate  10 

Fuorum  ver  me  le  fere  tute  vane." 
Ciascadum  e  di  tanta  facultade 
Quante  le  done  ch'el  fa  cum  sue  mane, 
N6  dura  amor  senza  prosperitade. 
Mai  serve  quel  che  serve  l'uomo  rio,  15 

Che  perdonar  non  sa  l'iniquo  al  pio. 

II.  El  mondo  e  tanto  al  vicio  sotomesso 

Che  non  cognosce  del  bem  la  radice. 
Boecio  dice  del  stato  felice: 
Vuy  mi  giettasti  perd  ch'e  comesso, 
Stabilita  non  era  al  grado  opresso.  5 

Cossi  mi  feza  l'amico  infelice. 
Non  ti  meter  il  giovo,  Paulo  dice, 
Con  gli  infidelli,  perche  fie  sopresso. 
Chi  chom  el  cativo  homo  si  nutrica, 
Dice  Grigolo,  convien  che  cativa  10 

Sua  vita  facia,  e  com  essa  inimica. 
Quando  dal  cane  fo  la  forza  priva, 
II  suo  signore  gli  tolse  la  spica; 
Al  cativo  servir  cossi  s'ariva. 

Doncha  zaschadun  che  viva  15 

Se  guardi  da  servir  l'enimico, 
Per  ch'el  gli  tolle  dela  gloria  il  spico. 


MS.  II.    2  cognsce. 

Var.  II.    4  mi  privasti.  7  te  poner  al  giovo. 


35]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  409 


28.     Hares  and  Frogs. 

I.  Per  lo  gran  vento  la  selva  risona, 
Le  leproselle  tute  s'enfuga. 

Gionte  al  palude  quasi  se  mittia 

Sottopozarsi,  ma  qui  si  consona 

Che  riguardaudo  lion  vide  persona,  5 

Salvo  che  rane  che  se  somergia, 

Per  la  gran  tenia  che  di  quelle  avia, 

Unde  gli  ritorno  speranza  bona. 

Disse  una  d'esse:     "Licito  e  sperare 

Che  nuy  non  scianio  ala  timenza  sole,  10 

Le  rane  vezo  per  nuy  dubitare." 

La  speranza  e  salute  d'ogni  prole, 

E  la  timenza  vicio  da  scaciare 

A  chi  teme  vergogna  e  vertu  vole. 

Perd  spera  chi  teme  ch'el  si  vede  15 

Di  gran  periglio  tornar  a  mercede. 

II.  Quando  fortuna  sona,  zascum  fuze, 
E  per  gran  tema  quando  piu  si  sconde, 
Ma  quando  vede  altruy  in  maior  unde, 
Confortasi  e  tanto  non  si  struze. 

Le  leproselle  cui  timenza  fruze  5 

Vide  rane  timere  per  le  fronde, 

E  tropo  piu  di  lor  di  tema  sconde, 

Unde  per  temma  piu  no  si  distruze. 

Cossi  timendo  la  mortal  sentenza, 

Per  vergogna  de  dir  nostri  deffecti,  10 

Nuy  si  scondiamo  dala  penitenza, 

Ma  poy  vegiando  i  tiribili  effecti, 

Sotopozarsi  nela  obidienza, 

Alor  dala  paura  siamo  necti. 

Non  ti  temer  di  tornarte  a  Dio,  15 

Con  piu  l'uomo  a  pecati,  egli  e  piu  pio. 

Var.  I.    3  se  ponia. 

Yar.  11.     2  quanto  p6  se  asconde.     6  le  rane  fugir.     7  de  lor  eran 
joconde.     12  li  horribili  effetti. 


410  BBUSH  [36 


29.     Wolf  and  Kid. 

I.  Querando  il  cibo  la  capra  si  mosse 
Et  al  ovile  il  figlo  recomanda, 
Eccossi  luy  castica  e  gli  comanda 

Che  non  apra  may  l'usso  per  percosse, 

Ne  per  luxinghe  se  alchun  di  fuor  fosse,  5 

Fin  che  non  torna  cum  la  sua  vivanda. 

Eccoti  il  lupo  el  diserar  dimanda, 

Voce  di  capra  fa  cum  voce  grosse. 

"Fati  lontano,  il  capreto  gli  disse, 

Che  d'esser  capra  mente  tua  loquella,  10 

E  per  toy  ingani  molti  ne  perisse. 

Che  sie  mia  madre  menti  ala  favella, 

E  te  eser  lupo  le  pariete  scisse 

Ti  mostra,  e  no  mia  madre  ni  caprella." 

Perfecta  e  la  doctrina  di  parenti,  15 

E  chi  la  sprexia  ni  riman  dolenti. 

II.  El  vien  a  te  amico  over  parente 
El  qual  ti  doni  perfecto  consiglio, 
Amico  mio,  dagli  tosto  di  piglio 

E  tiel  serato  fermo  nela  mente. 

S'el  ti  bixogna  subitanamente,  5 

Uxa  com  esso  com'al  padre  figlio, 

Lieto  ti  troveray  cum  chiaro  ciglio, 

E  tuoy  nimici  rimmara  dolente. 

Com'el  capreto  ubidl  la  soa  madre, 

Cossi  debiamo  ubedir  fede  nostra  10 

Negli  comandamenti  de  Dio  padre. 

Guarti  dal  enemico  che  ti  mostra 

Si  come  lupo  parole  buxarde, 

Sol  per  condurte  al  infernal  giostra. 

Or  doncha  fugi  sua  giostra  violente,  15 

Che  le  anime  con  lui  stan  mal  contente. 

M8.  II.     15  violente  giostra.     16     lacking. 

Var.  I.  3  cosi  lo  ammonisse.  7  lupo  che  ad  aprir.  8  Parlar  d* 
capra.     9  Statti  lontano. 

Tar.  II.  4  E  fermo  tienlo  stretto.  14  parole  bugiadre.  15  giostra 
violente.  After  line  16  comes  a  Latin  couplet  translated:  Non  te 
diletti   l'homo   lusignero,  Ma  quel  che   ti   correggie  e  dice   il  vero. 


37]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  411 


30.    Peasant  Who  Strikes  Snake. 

I.  Avea  nutrito  el  vilan  un  serpente, 
El  serpe  luy  tenia  per  car  amico. 

Al  vilan  ritornd  per  inimico 

El  dito  serpe  subitanamente 

E  sul  capo  il  feri  vilanamente.  5 

E  poy  si  fo  pentito  com'o  dico, 

Credendo  per  quel  fallo  esser  mendico, 

Perdon  gli  domandava  humelmente. 

Disse  il  serpente:     "I  non  serd  securo 

Fin  ch'el  mio  capo  sera  recordevole  10 

Del  colpo  tuo  cotanto  aspero  e  duro. 

Esser  non  voglio  piu  participevole 

Del  animo  disccognosente  e  scuro 

Senza  pietate  e  fuor  de  raxonevole. 

Offender  vuol  anchor  chi  offende  pria,  15 

E'l  don  del  rio  venim  credo  che  sia. 

II.  Quando  tu  servi  algun  di  bona  fe, 
E  nel  bixogno  tuo  ti  offenda  po, 

Un  altra  volta  digli  tu  di  no, 

Com'el  serpente  al  vilanazo  fe. 

Che  quando  gli  domando  poy  merce  5 

Dela  sua  injuria,  poy  si  ricordd 

E  disse:     "Tu  me  feristi  sul  cho, 

Si  che  giamay  mi  fiderd  di  te." 

Adamo  et  Eva  il  dimonio  tradt, 

Perd  non  ti  fidar  giamay  di  lu,  10 

Che  vuolentieri  inganarebe  ti. 

Servi  a  coluy  che  per  nostra  salu 

Fo  passionato,  ne  giamay  mentl, 

Si  che  cum   luy  ti  receva  lasu. 

i 
M8.I.     12  participeule. 


412  brush  [38 


31.     Stag  and  Sheep. 

I.  Un  giorno  il  cervuo  ala  pegra  dimanda, 
Presente  il  lupo,  un  vaso  di  formento, 
Che  la  gli  renda.     II  lupo  inconteneuto 
Subitamente  gli  dice  e  comanda. 

La  pecora,  per  la  timanza  granda,  5 

Confessa  contra  suo  proprio  talento 

Di  far  il  cervo  tuto  contento, 

Al  termino  che  la  sentencia  manda. 

Eccoti  in  breve  ch'el  termino  passa, 

Dimanda  il  cervuo  la  promisione;  .      10 

La  pecora  rispoxe  a  voce  bassa: 

"La  mia  promessa  non  val  di  raxone, 

Che  per  non  esser  dela  vita  cassa, 

Confessa  fui  tua  falsa  questione." 

Pacto  fato  per  tema  val  niente,  15 

Ne  fede  a  le  parole  del  timente. 

II.  Non  esser  scarso  giamai  di  parole 
Quando  tu  poy  scamparti  la  persona, 
Fa  ogni  pacto  cum  parola  bone 

Pur  che  ti  chiavi  fuor  di  cotal  scole. 

Non  val  ne  tene,  questo  raxon  vole,  5 

Pacto  facto  per  tema,  ne  consona. 

Ess'el  promisso  may  di  cid  raxona, 

Digli  cotal  raxon  uxar  si   suole. 

Cossi  il  pechato  piu  volte  te  chiede, 

Presente  l'enimico,  l'uomo  adello,  10 

Per  trarlo  fuori  de  bona  fede, 

E  cossi  engana  l'enimico  fello. 

Ma  s'el  non  fosse  la  justa  mercede, 

Di  nuy  farebe  piu  volte  fiagiello. 

Perd  guardati  ben  da  far  tal  pacti  15 

Com  el  pecato,  che  tu  no  te  inbrati. 

Var.  I.    3  lupo  turbulento.     4  judica  e  comanda.     7  De  far  che  el 
cervo  ne  resti  contento. 
Tar.  II.    7  Esser  promisso. 


39]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  413 


32.     Bald    Man    and    Fly. 

I.  Yogliantio  il  calvo  la  mosca  ferire, 
Si  medesimo  ferisse  e  quella  ride. 

El  calvo  quando  ritornar  la  vide 

Contra  la  mosca  cost  prese  a  dire: 

"Se  to  me  ferischo,  tu  ride  e  mi  mire,  5 

E  solo  un  colpo  te  abbatte  e  conquidej 

Ferirme  diece  volte  non  me  occide, 

Per  una  volta  te  convien  morire. 

La  gratia  mia  a  mi  sta  sempre  pronta, 

E  la  tua  trista,  che  e"  nocente  e  sorda,  10 

Ben  tosto  fie  da  nulla,  se  fie  gionta" 

Quel  che  offender  altrui  sempre  recorda, 

Se  lo  offeso  vol  vendicar  sua  onta, 

Xon  c'e  qui  conscientia  che  el  rimorda, 

Che   ben   po   fir  offeso   quel  che   offende,  15 

E  de  picol  cagion  gram   mul  descende. 

II.  Come  la  mosca  el  calvo  quivi  attenta, 
Cost  lo  mondo  attenta  li  cristiani, 
Quanto  piu  schiffa  soi  diletti  vani, 

Tanto  piu  certo  quelli  li  presenta. 

Cost  penando  la  persona  stenta  5 

Hora  presso  te  mostra,  hora  lontani, 

Ferisse  spesso  con  pensieri  strani, 

yd  mai  salvo  al  peccato  te  contenta. 

"Se  io  te  ferisco  pur  una  sol  volta, 

El  calvo  dice,  non  harai  sofrenza,  10 

Che  ogni  possantia  da  te  non  sia  tolta." 

Convien  ferirse  cun  la  penitenza, 

La  falsa  moscha  si  che  sia  dissolta 

Da  el  peccatore  per  la  obedienza. 

A  cid  che  schivi  la  sententia  grave,  15 

Guardati  da  ferir  con  voglie  prave. 

MS.  I.  Initial  V  of  Vogliando  omitted.  3  From  this  point  to 
Part  II.,  line  3,  of  the  next  fable,  No.  33,  the  manuscript  text  is 
lost.     The  lacuna  has  been  filled  from  the  1479  edition. 


414  BRUSH  [40 


33.  Fox  and  Stork. 

I.  La  volpe  invito  seco  la  cygogna 
Falsariamente  per  darli  da  cena; 
De  sot  til  cibo  la  gran  concha  piena 
Li  presento  senza  at  to  di  menzogna. 

La  cycogna  al  mangiar  par  che  si  sogna,  5 

Per  che  del  cibo  prender  non  pb  apena, 

Ma  saviamente  puo  la  volpe  mena 

A  cena  senza  mostra  de  rampogna, 

E  disse:     "Arnica,  perfette  vivande 

Habiamo  a  cena,  andiamo  ciascaduna."  10 

Quella  se  mosse  ale  parole  blande, 

Mangiar  potea  la  volpe  ad  una  ad  una 

Le  giozze  che  dal  longo  becho  spande 

Sopra  el  vaso  del  vetro,  onde  dejuna. 

Quel  che  tu  non  voresti,  a  altrui  non  fare,  15 

A7^  piaga  far  che  potresti  portare. 

II.  Collui  ch'c  offeso  sempre  se  ricorda 
E  tutta  volta  pensa  la  vendetta, 

E  quando  pud  ti  la  da  tuta  neta; 

Pero  non  dare  al  can  che  non  ti  morda. 

De  non  tirare  di  tal  vicio  corda,  5 

Lasciala  stare  come  maledeta, 

Tira  la  vista  buona  e  benedeta, 

Che  dal  servire  may  non  si  discorda. 

Chi  siegue  ingano,  prima  offende  Cristo, 

E  poscia  si  conturba  si  medesmo,  10 

E  del  anima  sua  si  trova  tristo. 

Conturba  l'inganato  ch'el  batesmo 

Biastema  se  a  vendeta  non  fia  visto, 

E  cossi  perde  Talma  el  cristianesmo. 

Non  voler  farti  cicogna  ni  volpe;  15 

Fa  si  che  rio  pecato  no  t'incolpe! 

MS.  II.    Resumes  with  line  3. 

Var.  II.    7  la  justa,  santa  e  benedetta. 


41]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  415 


34.     Wolf  and  Bust. 

I.  El  lupo  andando  fuori  per  un  campo 
Ritrovd  un  capo  ben  fato  per  arte. 

Quel  com  el  piede  el  volze  in  ogni  parte, 

E  guarda  quanto  e  bello  el  dolce  stampo, 

Che  quasi  mostra  aver  dy  vita  stampo.  5 

Unde  parlo :  "  Piu  gientil  contrafarte 

Non  ti  potria  maestro  hedificarte, 

Se  solo  avisti  dela  vita  nampo, 

Ma  tu  sey  senza  voce  e  senza  mente, 

Si  che  niente  vale  tua  beleza,  10 

E  capo  sey  adoncha  da  niente." 

Cossi  pertien  al  uomo  aver  destreza 

Dal  animo,  del  cuor,  donde  possente, 

Savia  e  acorta  fazia  soa  grandeza. 

El  nobel  cuor  extingue  ogni  diffeto,  15 

E  sol  nel  mondo  e  l'animo  perfecto. 

II.  Capo  di  pietra  fato  in  forma  humana 
Trovd  il  lupo  fuori  in  un  bel  prato. 

Quelo  col  piede  il  vuolgie  in  ogni  lato, 

Bello  gli  parse  ma  una  cossa  vana. 

Per  che  da  sentimenti  si  lontana,  5 

Nol  chiama  piu  esser  capo  beato. 

Da  luy  si  parte  cossi  sconsolato, 

E'l  capo  lasa  come  cossa  strana. 

Cossi  l'uomo  tristo  e  doloroso, 

Che  in  questo  mondo  come  un  zocho  vive,  10 

E  tuto  il  tempo  suo  sta  ocioso, 

N6  may  si  trova  che  da  luy  dirive, 

Salvo  che  lamentarsi  estar  pensoso, 

Temando  che  luxura  non  si  prive. 

Nfc  a  Dio  nft  al  mondo  cotal  homo  atende,  15 

Se  tu  gli  servi,  par  che  tu  Poffende. 

Var.  II.     2  capo  d'huom  fatto.     5     de  vita  scampo.     8  vita  vanpo. 
Var.II.     After  line  16  is  a  Latin  couplet  translated:     Pero  che 
ogni  servir  servitio  vole,  Servi  con  fede  a  chi  servir  te  sole. 


416  brush  [42 


35.     Cbow  in  Peacock  Feathers. 

I.  Vestisse  el  corvo  d'una  zentil  piuma 
D'un  bel  pavon,  ch'el  trovo  nela  via. 
Costui  s'adorna,  costuy  si  polia, 

E  di  superbia  monto  sula  cima, 

E  di  star  fra  pavoni  fa  sua  stima,  5 

E  non  si  teme  aver  sua  compagnia. 

Quando  di  questo  i  pavon  s'avedia, 

Luy  dispoglio,  e  luy  bate  e  dilima, 

"Chi  trope  vole,  e  il  corvo  alora  parla, 

El  tuto  lassa,  e  cade  nel  estreme,  10 

Vogliendo  la  natura  sua  sforzarla. 

El  corpo  mio,  che  nudo  langue  e  gieme, 

La  vesta  sua  potria  lieta  portarla, 

La  donde  poverta  ville  me  preme." 

Coluy  che  lascia  il  suo  per  tuor  1'altruy,  15 

Ignorante  di  se  disorta  luy. 

II,  El  corvo  e  l'uomo  al  mondo  baratero, 
Che  nel  mondo  percaza  grandi  officii, 

E  quand'e  grande  fa  de  molti  assticii, 

Rubando  Polo,  Martino  e  Si  Piero. 

E  poy  quando  si  vede  bien  altiero  5 

E  vestito  digli  altri  beneficii, 

Tra  grandi  va,  ne  teme  malefici, 

Tanto  chi  vien  falito  suo  pensiero. 

Sopra  gli  vien  subito  la  fortuna, 

Ch'el  mena  al  fondo  e  tuto  lo  dispoglia,  10 

E  fagli  il  di  parer  di  note  bruna. 

Ay  quanto  e  duro  sofrir  tal  doglia! 

Ne  in  questo  mondo  n'e  persona  alguna 

De  non  pigliati  azoglia. 

Di  voler  tor  l'altruy  per  algun  modo,  15 

Che  tosto  vien  ch'el  se  desficha  il  chiodo. 

Var.I.    1  bianca  piuma.     16  deserta. 

Before  line  1  is  a  Latin  couplet  translated:  Se  tu  voi  far  alcuna 
cosa  grande,  Mensura  el  tuo  poder  quanto  si  spande. 

Var.  II.  2  Che  d'ognhora.  9  Da  poi  gli  sopragionge  la.  13  Im- 
percio  che  non  e.  14  Che  del  suo  male  non  ne  pigli  zoglia.  15  Deh! 
non  tor  tu  lo  altrui. 


43]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  417 


36.    Mule  and  Fly. 

I.  La  mula  carcha  dal  pexo  dolente 
Dal  mulater  offexa  piglia  il  corso. 

La  moscha  minazando  i  da  di  morso, 

E  disse:     ''Dorme  tuo  piede  corrento, 

Curri  liziera  via  subitamente.  5 

Non  sentime  riemica  del  tuo  dorso, 

Che  contra  el  ponzer  mio  non  a  socorso?" 

La  mula  gli  rispuoxe  a  mantinente: 

"Per  che  tu  suoni  grande,  mostrar  vuoy 

Che  tu  sie  grande,  ma  di  te  non  dubito,  10 

Ne  temo  te  ne  le  minace  touoy. 

Temo  coluy  che  col  suo  grave  cubito 

Spesso  mi  bate  nely  accesi  suoy, 

E'l  grave  pondo  ch'el  mi  poni  subito." 

Non  teme  il  tristo  al  forte  minazare,  15 

Quando  c'e  tempo  ch'egli  il  possa  fare. 

II.  Se  nel  aversita  recevi  injuria, 
Non  temer  li  minace  del  dimonio, 
Che  Dio  sempre  sera  tuo  tistimonio 
A  liberarti  da  sua  mortal  furia. 

Tutora  Dio   il   sofferente  alturia,  5 

Quando  gli  piace,  il  bate  col  suo  conio. 

Tute  l'altre  minace  son  insonio, 

Tu  solo  timi  Dio  e  la  sua  curia. 

San  Gieronimo  dice  ch'el  fastidio 

De  l'inimicho  sempre  sta  solicito  10 

Per  condur  l'uomo  al  enfernal  astidio. 

Escenipio  dela  mula  te  fia  licito, 

Che  non  teme  dela  moscha  l'ensidio, 

Ma  teme  il  proprio  suo  signore  hospicito. 

Adoncha  questo  recogli   felicito,  15 

E  tale  exempio  fa  che  te  sia  placito. 

MS.  II.     16  lacking. 

Var.I.     16  Quando  non  teme  che  esso  el  possi  fare. 

Tar.  II.     15  racogli  e  state  tacito. 


26 


418  brush  [44 


37.     Fly  and  Ant. 

I.  La  mosca  mosse  lite  ala  formica; 

"Trista  che  stay  enele  oscure  cave, 
E  per  fatica  duri  pene  grave, 
Et  i'6  la  nobel  casa  per  arnica, 

E'l  chiaro  vin  bever  non  mi  faticha,  5 

E  tu  t'afondi  nele  fece  prave, 
El  baso  dono  ale  golte  soave 
Dele  regine  per  usanza  anticha." 
Ripose  la  formica:     "I'vivo  in  pace 
Nela  mia  cava,  e  tu  sempre  in  rancura.  10 

I  fati  tuoy  a  tuto  el  mondo  spiace; 
Bevando  il  vino  vivi  cum  paura; 
El  falivello  ti  da  bote  penace, 
E'l  fredo  inverno  ti  da  morte  dura." 
Vien  odio  e  pace  segondo  il  contendere,  15 

Che  odio  e  fede  suol  la  lingua  rendere. 

IL  Se  la  cativa  lingua  ti  contende, 

Serra  le  orechie  e  refrena  la  alduta, 
Pero  che  ogni  resposta  sie  perdua, 
E  zS  da  vertu  vien  chi  no  gli  atende. 
Ma  si  discreta  lingua  ti  riprende,  5 

Quela  come  humeltate  tu  salua, 
Per  che  vertute  in  ley  e  divolua, 
Ghe  scaza  l'odio  e  la  fede  comprhende. 
Prima  vertute  e  constringere  la  lingua, 
Dice  Catone  nel  suo  bel  volume,  10 

A  zS  che  ogni  mal  dir  da  ley  se  stingua. 
Lingua  che  nel  mal  dir  prende  costumme, 
Dice  San  Sisto,  e  di  malicia  pregna, 
Che  dal  animo  rio  lingua  fa  lumme. 
Or  colglete  le  summe  15 

De  non  seguir  el  vicio  dela  moscha, 
E  la  formica  per  vuy  se  cognoscha. 

MS.  II.    2  line  ends  with  refrena. 

Var.I.    2  che  jaci.     3  soffri.     7  ale  guanze.     11  La  tua  natura  a 
tutto.     13  botte   tenace.     15-16  guerra  for  odio. 
Var.II.    2  Chiudi  le  orechie.     13  malicia  pingua. 


45]  ESOPO  ZUCCAEINO  419 


38.     Fox,  Wolf  and  Monkey  Judge. 

I.  Davanti  da  Meser  lo  Simioto, 

Quale  era  zuxe,  il  lupo  dimanda 
Ala  volpe  per  furto,  e'la  negava 
Ogni  dimanda,  tuta  moto  a  moto. 
El  judice,  che  non  era  ben  docto,  5 

Di  saper  leze  tra  luy  simulava, 
E  secreto  di  mente  si  pensava, 
E  la   sentencia  soa  diede  diboto. 
Al  lupo  disse:     "Tua  dimanda  e  frodo, 
Ne  tue  parole  son  digne  di  fede,  10 

N&  la  tua  propria  fe  no  gli  dar  lodo. 
E  tu,  volpe,  col  vitio  dele  arede, 
Ben  megi  il  furto  come  uxevol  modo, 
Or  fate  pace  ch'io  ve  do  mercede." 
Non  sa  lasciar  gli  engani  i  malfactori,  15 

E  cum  piu  vive  diventa  pizori. 

II :  El  lupo  cum  la  volpe  fa  tenzone, 

Dimandando  per  furto,  e  quela  nega. 
Ecco  doe  que  limoxine  s'alega, 
La  gola  e  l'avaricia  fa  questione. 
La  gola  non  vuol  perdere  soa  raxone,  5 

E  l'avaricia  la  sua  borsa  strenga. 
El  judice,  che  sua  sentencia  spiega, 
Salvo  di  pace  fa  comandaxone. 
Come  far  pace  pu6  quivi  la  gola? 
Gula  dimanda  solo  per  si  sola,  10 

No  largeza  ma  prodegalitate, 
Avaricia  non  cura  dignitate, 
Ingana  ghioca  sempre  roba  e  invola 
E  desliale  senza  veritate. 

L'un  diserta  e  l'altro  si  consnma,  15 

Doncha  fugite  sua  cativa  suma. 

Var.  I.    2  Fatto  judice. 

Var.  II.  3  Ecco  che  due  elemosine.  6  borsa  lega.  After  line  16 
comes  a  Latin  quotation  from  Sallust  translated:  Per  che  lo  avar 
no  Be  riposa  ma,  Non  po  acquistar  sciencia  ne  bontft. 


420  brush  [46 


39.     Febbet  and  Mouse. 

I.  La  donola  avea  prexo  un  topo  grande, 

Intanto  l'uomo  prexe  la  mustella. 
Dimandando  perdon  quella  favella: 
"Justo  e'l  perdon  a  me  juste  dimande, 
El  tuo  nimicho,  che  quivi  s'apande,  5 

Cum  sua  zenia  la  mia  possa  martella, 
Tenir  me  dey  como  cara  sorella, 
Che  tuoi  nemici  ligo,  ucido  e  prande." 
"Per  l'utel  tuo  l'animo  prompto  e  rio 
Ucide  i  rati,  l'uomo  prexe  a  dire,  10 

Per  esser  soil  a  a  roder  el  pan  mio, 
Credendo  l'enemico  far  perire, 
II  suo  nemico  agranda,  dove  io 
Ti  penso  per  gli  damni  far  morire." 
Non  e  che  adorni  il  facto  de  niente,  15 

S'el  non  c'e  l'uopra,  e'l  fructo  dela  mente. 

II.  Chi  libero  non  serve,  nulla  valle, 

Per  ch'el  premio  refrena  il  buon  volere. 
Cossi  l'uopra  mostra  suo  podere 
Come  a  servite  sua  voglia  gli  calle. 
Credendo  l'enemico  farti  malle,  5 

Talor  ti  serve  senza  suo  piacere, 
L'amico  ancora  talora  cadere 
Ti  fa,  crendo  servir  liberalle. 
El  justo  l'enimico  spesso  atenta, 

Credendo  luy  tor  giu  di  buon  talento,  10 

E  la  possa  de  Dio  piu  l'argumenta. 
Ecco  sul  tristo  ch'a  falso  argumento, 
Con  piu  fi  consigliato,  piu  tormenta, 
E  piu  s'aferma  al  rio  proponimento. 
La  mustella  ucidea  il  suo  nimico,  15 

Inimicando  se  mostrava  amico. 

Var.  I.    8  nemici  uccido  e  ne  fo  sangue. 

Tar.  II.    2  referma.    4  a  servire  sua  voglia  li  sale. 


47]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  421 


40.    Frog  and  Ox. 

I.  La  rana,  per  volierse  simigliare 
Al  bove  di  persona  e  de  grandeza, 

Si  messe  voler  farsi  a  sua  gualeza, 

E  feramente  se  prexe  a  sgonfiare. 

El  figliol  suo  gli  dixe :   "  Dey !  non  fare !  5 

C'al  bove  sey  niente  de  pareza, 

E  s'el  non  cessa  quela  tua  fereza, 

Ben  levemente  potresti  crepare." 

CorrozOssi  feramente  la  rana, 

E  di  sgonfiarsi  sforza  sua  natura,  10 

Credendosi  compir  sua  voglia  vana. 

Unde  sgonfiata  fuor  dela  mexura, 

Li  enteriori  cade  in  tera  piana. 

Si  clie  disfata  jace  sua  figura. 

Non  voglia  al  grande  el  pizol  simigliarsi,  15 

Consiglisi  e  voglia  temperarsi. 

II.  Guardative,  signor,  farvi  ranochia, 
Ne  vi  sconfiati  per  vostra  superba, 

E  lacio  et  inflacio  non  si  surba, 

Cipriano  dice,  ne  Cristo  le  adochia, 

Ma  del  dimonio  son  cotal  panochia,  5 

E  Dio  d'umilitate  chiede  l'erba. 

Sgonfiati  vuy  crepati  a  pena  acerba, 

E  poy  l'anime  vostre  non  sornochia. 

Vuy  pur  volete,  signor,  farvi  grande, 

Piu  che  non  vi  richiede  la  natura,  10 

La  quale  sempre  suol  masticar  jande. 

E  quando  sete  nel  altru  pastura, 

Vuy  vi  sgonfiati  dele  sue  vivande, 

Le  qual  crepati  cade  ala  verdura. 

El  ben  mondano  vuy  lasciati  in  terra,  15 

E  col  nemico  1'anima  s'aferra. 

Var.  I.    3  Se  puose.     16  Pria  se  consigli. 

Var.  II.     2  per  voglia  superba.     3   die  la  negra  palude  non   ve 
wrba.     12  Le  qual  ve  fan  crepar. 


422  brush  [48 


41.     Lion  and  Shepherd. 

I.  Al  leon  intr6  una  spina  nel  pede, 
E  zopegando  vide  un  pegoraro, 

II  qual  un  buon  castrato  iprexentaro, 

Querando  a  luy  pieta  di  buona  fede. 

El  lion  ver  luy  cuz  humelta  procede,  5 

Porsiglie  il  pede,  che  dovesse  traro 

La  spina  fuori,  e  quel  gela  cavaro. 

Unde  il  lion  si  gli  rese  mercede. 

Prexo  il  leone  fo  conduto  a  Roma, 

Con  molte  fere  dentro  dala  rena.  10 

Digno  di  morte  il  pecoraro  anoma, 

E  tra  le  fiere  per  suo  cibo  il  mena, 

Liberdl  il  leon  di  cotal  soma, 

Unde  Romani  l'ira  sua  rafrena. 

Non  si  de  il  merto  vilmente  scaciare,  15 

Del  beneficio  se  dian  ricordare. 

i 

II.  Coluy  che  serve  may  non  pud  perire, 

Se  tropo  gravy  pechati  nol  tocha, 

Ma  quando  quelo  che  pecati  inbrocha 

Va  zopegando  e  quaxi  non  pud  zire, 

Per  ch'el  pecato  nol  lascia  guarire,  5 

E  cossi  sta  fermato  nela  gocha, 

E  quando  a  penitencia  si  discrocha, 

Rimedio  trova  che  non  pu6  perire. 

Cossi  il  leone  trovd  medexina 

Et  aiutato  dal  justo  pastore,  10 

Che  lietamente  gli  trasse  la  spina. 

Cossi  consola  certo  il  pecatore 

L'animo  a  Dio  quando  mal  se  destina, 

E  subito  ritorna  al  suo  factore. 

Chi  serve  a  Dio,  perir  non  pud  zamay,  15 

E  sempre  schiva  i  dolorosi  guay. 

Var.  I.  3  castrato  e  hebbe'l  caro.  6  piede  per  trovar  riparo.  7 
Quel  gli  cavo  la  spina  e  il  duol  amaro.     14  Und'el  popul  roman. 

Var.  II.  2  Ma  se  grande  peccato  troppo  el  tocha.  3  Come  fa  quel 
che  da  el  chiodo  se  imbrocha.  5  Cosl  el  pecato  non  se  pd  guarire. 
8  pd  morire.     11  li  cavo.     13  quando  ben. 


49]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  423 


42.     Horse  and  Liox. 

I.  Pasturando  il  cavallo  in  un  bel  prato, 
Vene  il  leon  per  voler  lui  manzare, 

E  sue  parolle  prexe  simulare: 

"Medico  son  nel  arte  amaistrato, 

Se  tu  vien  mecho,  i'te  faro  beato."  5 

Prima  il  cavalo  prexe  pensare 

Al  frodo,  e  per  voler  luy  inganare 

Disse:     "Credo  che  Dio  t'  a  qui  mandato, 

Malatia  grande  nel  mio  pede  sento." 

El  lion  vogliendo  mostrar  medecina,  10 

Quel  cum  suoy  calci  gli  diede  tromento, 

Unde  suoy  menbri  sopiti  dechina. 

Disse  il  lion:     "Per  falso  pensamento 

Sostegno  male  e  greve  disiplina." 

Non  voler  farti  quel  che  tu  non  sey,  15 

Che  tu  non  cadi  neli  accessi  rey. 

II.  Homo  cativo,  a  cui  mal  far  dileta, 
Per  che  mutar  ti  voy  di  tua  natura? 
Non  vede  tu  che  la  justa  mesura 
Giamay  non  calla,  ma  stassi  perfecta? 

Vedi  il  leone  che  vuol  dar  dieta,  5 

Medicinando  fuor  per  la  verdura, 

Unde  il  cavallo  gli  fici  paura 

Quando  di  calci  gli  diedi  la  streta. 

Cossi  nel  falso  nemico  sempre  incalza 

L'uomo  che  chietamente  in  pace  vive,  10 

Et  in  sua  vanagloria  sempre  s'alza. 

Idio,  che  may  non  vuol  ch'el  justo  prive, 

Com'  el  suo  signo  gli  fa  dar  di  calza, 

Quando  signato  s'a  zaschun  che  vive. 

Per6  d'offender  altruy  ciaschun  si  schive,  15 

Per  che  Voffeso  in  mar  more  lo  scrive. 

MS.  II.     16  lacking. 

Var.II.  5  leone  come  ben  se  assetta.  After  line  16  is  a  La l in 
couplet  translated:  Se  tu  hai  nemici,  non  li  vilipendere,  Sapi  chi 
pensan  sempre  mai  de  offendere. 


424  brush  [50 


43.     Horse  and  Ass. 

I.  Del  freno,  dele  barde  e  dela  sella 
Alegrassi  el  cavallo  tanto  bello, 

E  superbisse  contra  l'asinello 

Offexo  dala  carga  grave  e  fella. 

Ver  luy  disse  cum  fera  favella:  5 

"Occuri  al  tuo  signore,  miserello." 

Fortuna  tosto  gli  volsi  mantello, 

Luy  smagra,  batte,  luy  spoglia  e  flagiella. 

Nel  asino  scontrossi,  et  el  gli  disse: 

"Se  Dio  ti  salve!     Dov'e  il  gientil  freno,  10 

La  respiendente  sella,  e  l'altre  arnisse? 

Como  sey  di  grasieza  giunto  al  meno, 

Che  magrega  ti  preme  in  tute  guisse, 

Manchati  orzo,  spelta,  vena  o  feno!" 

Ne  i  ben  vani  non  voler  credere,  15 

Ne'l  povero  offender,  che  tu  poy  cadere. 

II.  Or  puoni  niente  ala  falsa  sembianga 
Ch'el  mondo  porze  nela  vanagloria, 

Che  quanto  monti  e  quanto  piu  ta  gloria 

Cotanto   piu  ti  trovy  buffa  e  zanga. 

Quanto  ti  mostra  piu  ligiadra  stanca,  5 

Tanto  piu  tuolti  da  Dio  la  memoria, 

E  quanto  credi  aver  maior  victoria, 

Tanto  piu  tosto  cade  tua  bilanza. 

Non  odi  tu  come  l'asino  dice: 

"Dov'e  la  sella,  il  freno  esi  le  barde?  10 

Dov'e  di  tua  superbia  la  radice, 

Per  che  nel  ben  mazar  cotanto  tarde? 

Dov'e  il  buon  feno  e  del  grano  le  spice, 

Per  che  sey  maceo,  e  or  per  che  non  s'arde  ? " 

Queste  cosse  buxarde  15 

Chi  mostra  il  mondo  e  poy  di  nuy  caleffa, 

E  col  nemico  ce  lassa  ale  ceffa. 

Var.  I.    6  Va  nanti  al. 

Var.  II.  5  legiadra  danza.  14  non  pice.  15  cose  felice.  12  Line 
13  precedes  line  12.  After  line  17  is  a  Latin  couplet  translated: 
Nisun  se  fidi  del  tempo  sereno,  Che  spesso  el  muta  aspetto  e  volgie 
el  freno. 


51]  ESOPO  ZUCOARINO  435 


44.     Bat,  Birds  and  Beasts. 

I.  Faceano  insieme  una  grande  bataglia 
Tuti  gli  ucelli  contra  gli  animali, 

E  la  victoria  stava  tra  le  ali 

Degli  ucelli,  che  le  fere  travaglia. 

El  vespertiglio  par  che  non  si  calgla  5 

Contra  gli  ucelli  dar  corpi  mortali, 

Abandonando  soy  compagni  equali, 

Contra  lor  vuole  che  sua  possa  vaglia. 

Possa  vegiando  lassua  possa  grande 

Che  avean  gli  ucelli  per  l'aquila  forte,  10 

Subitamente  alor  si  torna  e  rande. 

Comandando    gli    ucelli    amare    sorte 

Gli  diede  c'al  volar  l'ale  non  spande 

Salvo  la  note,  in  pena  dela  morte. 

Chi  offende  la  sua  patria  e  fuor  de  honori,  15 

Servessi   injustamente   duy   signori. 

II.  Oldi  novella  che  qui  el  berbistrello 
Stava   sicuro  a  dir  viva  chi  vienge! 
Ora  da  l'una  parte,  or  torna  a  quinge, 
Or  viva  il  leo!     Et  or  viva  l'ucello! 

Cossi  l'uomo  cativo  e  topinello,  5 

El  qual  de  lialtate  mai  si  finge, 

Ma  sempre  nel  mal  far  si  liga  e  cinze, 

Sempre  metendo  mal  da  questo  a  quello. 

Cossi  coluy  il  qual  non  t\  fermeza, 

Vasi  ala  chiexa  e  sta  molto  divoto,  10 

E  com'e  fuori  e   di   pezor   fereza. 

Al  berbistrello  fo  dato  andar  di  noto, 

CossI  chi  siguirano  cotal  treza 

Nel  profondo  d'abisso  avera  suo  scoto. 

L'apostol  dice  ben  ni  si  compensa  15 

De  Cristo  e  del  dimonio  la  lor  mensa. 

Var.  I.    lie  pande. 

Var.  II.     12  Al  barbastel  di  notte  andar  e  noto.     14  suo  voto.     10 
in  una  mensa. 


426  brush  [52 


45.     Hawk  and  Nightingale. 

I.  Cantava  dolcemente  il  risignolo, 
Sul  nido  suo  lieto  si  dieportava; 
Intanto  il  sparavero  gli  rivava, 

El  nido  gli  asaltd,  ch'era  nel  bruolo. 

Quela  suplicd  a  luy  cum  grave  duolo.  5 

"Canta  soave,"  il  sparivero  parlava. 

El  risignuol  piu  dolce  ancor  cantava, 

Per  tema  che  non  manzasse  il  figliolo. 

Quella  cantando  avea  nel  core  doglia. 

El  sparaveri  grido:     "Tu  mal  canti."  10 

E  presente  la  madre  il  figlio  spoglia. 

Cossi  convien  che  di  dolor  s'amanti 

E  senza  morte  la  morte  ricoglia 

Dal  cor  roduto  da  gravosi  pianti. 

Merita  il  rio  mal  fin  e  mala  vita,  15 

E  teme  l'arte  che  justi  merita. 

II.  El  risignuolo  canta  dolcemente 

Per  guardar  ch'el  suo  nido  non  fia  guasto; 

El  sparaveri,  per  rubargli  il  pasto, 

Vuol  che  di  canto  piu  dolce  il  contente. 

E  cossi  fa  la  dolorosa  mente  5 

Del    uxeraro,    quando    da    di    tasto 

Al  puover  huomo  gli  mete  tal  basto, 

Che  lasciar  gli  conviem  canpi  e  zumente. 

Canta  via  dolce,  e  quel  gli  puorta  l'uova, 

Canta  piu  dolce,  e'l  gli  da  la  galina,  10 

Ancor  piu  dolce,  a  la  biada  nuova, 

Tropo  piu  dolce,  e  vutagli  le  scrina. 

Cossi  come  i  figlioli  fame  pruova, 

E  mendicando  fa  vita  topina, 

Ne  may  si  menda  questi  sciagurati,  15 

Maledeti  da  Dio  e  biastemati, 

Usurari  suogeti  ala  rapina. 

Var.  I.    15  che  male  vita.    16  Sempre  ha  menato  e  poi  pena  infinita. 
Var.  II.    3  sparver  che  poi  li  robbd.     12  e  voltagli  la  schina.    After 
line  16  come  three  additional  lines  of  text: 

O  anima  meschina! 

Che  mai  se  pente  deli  soi  peccati. 

Doppo  la  morte  vassen  tra  dannati. 


53]  ESOPO  ZUCCAKINO  427 


46.     Fox  Betbays  Wolf. 

I.  Aveva  il  lupo  furato  un  agnello, 
La  volpe  ver  luy  parlava  lieta, 

E  disse:     "Dove  sta  tua  vita  cheta? 

Di  te  me  meraveglio,  car  fradello." 

E  quello  a  ley  come  riguardo  fello:  5 

"Di  pregar  Dio  per  mi  non  cessi  in  freta. 

Puoi  volentieri  troveresti  meta 

Di  furar  cid  che  col  dente  flagello." 

Partisse  quella  vergogiiosa  e  grama, 

El  pecorar  sula  campagna  vide,     *  10 

Qual  feramente  a  se  parlando  chiama, 

E  disse:     "II  lupo  l'agnel  tuo  divide." 

Mostragli  il  luocho,  e  quel  d'ira  s'infiama, 

Corsegli  drieto  e  quelo  junto  ucide. 

Per  invidia  perisse  chi  rapina,  15 

Per  gli  altruy  damni  in  suoy  damni  ruina. 

II.  Eccoti  il  lupo  aver  l'agniello  tolto, 
E  divoralo  suol  per  si  soleto. 

Et  ecoti  la  volpe  cum  dilecto 

Fraudevolmente  fargli  lietto  volto. 

Cossi  coluy  che  in  le  bragald'e  involto,  5 

El  soto  cozo  vien  che  sa  il  diffeto, 

E  tutora  gli  mostra  chiaro  aspeto 

Per  aver  parte  di  quel  ch'a  disolto. 

E  quando  vide  che  coluy  ghel  nega, 

Dice  tra  se:     "Dar&tila  per  ponto."  10 

E  come  il  suo  signor  gli  da  la  piega. 

Quando  il  signore  il  ciagurato  il  giunto 

E  vede  che  di  certo  el  gli  e  la  frega, 

Segondo  sua  justicia  el  fa  difonto. 

Idio  prima  punisse  il  rubatore,  15 

E  simelmente  poy  l'acusatore. 

Var.  I.     6  per  me  non  te  affreta.     14  Ma  quel  dietro  li  corse  e'l 
lupo  occide.     16  sua  vita  ruina. 

Var.  II.    5  le  maghagne  e.     14  defuncto. 


428  brush  [54 


47.    Stag  and  Antlebs. 

I.  Speculavasi  il  cervo  nel  chiaro  fonte, 

Ito  per  bevere  ala  fresca  fontana, 
E  superbisse  della  gloria  vanna 
Delle  ramose  corne  del  suo  fronte. 
Poy  si  lamenta  delle  magre  zonte  5 

Dele  sue  cambe.     Et  ecco  per  la  piana 
Latrando  cani,  e  quel  cum  voce  sana 
Le  gambe  priega  c'al  correr  sian  pronte. 
Fuzando  il  cervo  nel  boscho  discese, 
E  cum  le  corne  luonge  ch'el  avia  10 

Ingateglidssi    senza   far   difexe. 
Intanto  i  cazatori  11  venia, 
E  subito  quel  cervo  ligd  e  prexe, 
Dala  speranza  offexo  vana  e  ria. 

Sprexia  quel  die  ci  giova  e  gran  mateza,  15 

Quel  che  ci  noce,  abiamo  per  legreza. 

II.  Come  tu  vidi,  il  cervo  quivi  preso 

Fu  per  la  vannagloria  delle  corne, 
Che  piu  non  vada  ne  piu  retro  torne 
Di  ce  le  frasche  da  cuy  son  contexo. 
Eccosi  l'uomo  dalla  fonte  offexo,  5 

Cioe  dal  mondo  in  cuy  spechiar  ti  scorni, 
Per  lo  pecato  prexo,  unde  sozorne, 
E  nel  peccato  convien  star  alexo. 
Quando  sentisti  che  latrava  i  cani, 
Cioe  il  demonio  che  ti  sottomesse,  10 

Alora  cognosesti  i  pensier  vanni. 
Tu  pregavi  le  gambe  che  corresse, 
Cioe  la  penetenza  ma  lo  lontani, 
Tropo  eram    fati   tuoi   penser   da  esse. 
Per  gli  pecati  si  porta  le  penne,  15 

Perd  zaschadun  si  sforza  di  far  benne. 

Var.  I.  7  Latrar  li  cani  ma  la  voce  il  sana.  16  noce  haverlo  per 
legrezza. 

Var  II.  2  per  lo  desiderio.  4  Di  con  le  frasche  dale  qual  fu 
appreso. 


55]  ESOPO  ZDCCARINO  429 


48.     Knight  and  Widow. 

I.  Duolsi  la  donna  del  marito  priva, 
E  nocte  e  di  la  sepoltura  abraza. 
Eccoti  un  ladro  ala  croce  s'alaza, 

La  guardia  forte  la  note  si  tinia, 
Andd  ala  tomba  e  la  dona  queriva  5 

Che  gli  porzesse  bevre  in  una  caza, 
Apresso   qib   d'amor   quela   bonaza. 
Quella  consente  senza  voglia  schiva, 
Possa  la  guardia  ritornd  ala  croce, 
,,  Trovd  ch'el  ladro  gli  era  tolto  via.  10 

Ala  donna  tornd  cumme  humel  voce: 
"  Oimfc !     Come  de  far   la  vita   mia !  " 
"Non  dubitar,"  quela  dice  feroce. 
E  sula  croce  il  marito  metia. 

Teme  i  vivi  paura,  e  morti  pena,  15 

Et  a  mal  fin  femena  l'uopra  mena. 

II.  Vedi  la  donna  pianzer  il  marito 
E  poy  cavarlo  dela  sepoltura. 

Vedi  malicia  propria  e  non  sciagura 

Poner  luy  in  croce  essendo  morto. 

O   peccato  mortale   istabelito  5 

Che  non  temi  vergogna  ne  paura, 

Luxuria  in  cui  non  si  trova  mesura, 

Unde  pifl  parte  del  mondo  e  perito. 

La  dona  il  suo  marito  abraza  e  strinze, 

Cioe  luxuria  abraza  questo  mondo,  10 

E  quanto  puo  a  se  il  tira  e  constrinze, 

Poy  il  mete  in  croce  col  suo  grave  pondo. 

Cun  Palturio  del  inimico  il  vinze, 

E  trabucar  il  faze  nel  profondo. 

Non  6  nel  mondo  terribel  pecato  15 

Quanto  ch'e  questo,  ne  piu  scelerato. 

Var.  I.  3  ala  forcha.  6  in  una  taccia.  7  quella  percaccia.  11 
donna  ne  vien.     14  sula  forcha;   ponia.     15  Temen  vivi  vergogna. 

Var.  II.  4  chi  era  sepelito.  12  E  doppo  in  croce  el  pone  con  gruo 
pondo.     15  horribel. 


430  brush  [56 


49.     Youth  and  Harlot. 

I.  Per  l'arte  sua  la  blandente  bagassa 
Un  gioveneto  trasse  al  falso  amore, 
Dicendo:     "0  vita,  0  spene  del  mio  core! 
Tu  sey  coluy  che  possar  non  mi  lassa, 

II  tuo  amore  si  com  el  mio  s'acassia,  5 

Che  esser  denno  inseme  d'un  colore. 

Son  serva  tua,  voglio  che  si  segnore 

Del  corpo  mio,  ch'al  tuo  voler  s'abassa." 

E  quello  a  ley:     "O  dolce  mia  speranza! 

Sum  tuo,  sie  mia,  tuto  mi  ti  abandono.  10 

In  me  giamay  non  troveray  falanza. 

Ma  fami  avere  il  gracioso  dono, 

Dale  parole  ai  fati  dubitanza, 

Come  gia  fece  l'enfengibel  sono." 

Chi  ama  la  bagassa  pud  crerre  15 

Ch'ela  non  ama  luy,  ma  si  l'averre. 

II.  Eccoti  qui  le  false  meretrice, 
Deslialtate  e  simulatione. 
Eccoti    due    perfect©    compagnone 
A  farti  perdere  l'anima  felice. 

Simula  falsamente  sua  radice  5 

Per  condur  l'uomo  a  disperatione, 

Poy  dal  enimico  vien  temptatione, 

Che  ti  consiglia  del  stato  infelice: 

"Io  son  in  tuto  toa,  O  vita  mia!" 

Eccoti  qui  simulare  il  contrario:  10 

"Cossi  sie  mio,"  come  una  voce  pia. 

Ecco  deslialtate,  color  vario; 

"Viver  non  posso,  s'io  non  6  tua  guya." 

Cossl  perisse  il  giusto  per  falsario, 

Tu  credi  ch'el  mondan  dilecto  t'ama,  15 

Ma  per  farti  perire  a  se  ti  chiama. 

Var.  I.    4  che  in  requie.    5  amor  con  el  mio  cosi  se  amassa.    6  de- 
veno.     15  pd  ben  sapere. 


57]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  431 


50.  Fatheb  and  Son. 

I.  II  padre  castigava  so  figliolo, 
E'l  figliolo  al  padre  non  crede  niente, 
Sempre  il  contrario  piglia  nela  mente, 
Unde  suo  padre  molte  se  ne  duolo, 

E  quando  il  figlio  falla  com'el  suolo  5 

El  padre  bate  i  fanti  duramente, 

E  sempre  a  castigarlo  e  sofrente, 

E   di   sua  mente  questa  faula  tuolo: 

"  Figliol,  la  man  maestra  del  bovolcho 

Puose  il  vitello  in  giovo  com'el  bove,  10 

Simel   a  quel   del   ixola  del  colcho, 

Unde  il  bovolcho  tal  parole  move: 

'Ara  via  lieto  che'l  convien  ch'el  solcho.'  " 

El  giovene  dal  vechio  impare  e  trove 

Molto  gioua  cautela  di   dotrina  15 

Per  ch'el  minor  al  major  si  dichina. 

II.  Perd  che  fui  di  vuy  primo  creatore, 
Adamo  vi  creai  per  primo  padre 

Eva  ve  trassi  vostra  prima  madre, 

Moyse  ve  diedi  per  gubernatore, 

Abram,  Ysach,  Jacob,  consiliatore,  5 

Che  di  virtude  ve  mostro  le  quadre. 

Tuti  propheti  cum  viste  ligiadre, 

Verita  disse  e  non  fo  mentitore. 

Tuti  costor  vi  frustay  davanti 

Per  castigarvi  per  lor  gran  martire,  10 

E  vuy  pur  nel  mal  far  seti  constanti. 

El  mio  dolce  figiol  cum  gran  dexire 

Tra  vuy  manday  cum  humeli  sembianti; 

Vuy  per  invidia  lo  fisti  morire. 

Non  ve  castigard  com  padre  figlio,  15 

Poy  che  voglite  l'eterno  periglio. 

MS.  II.     1  nuy. 

Var.  I.    4  padre  ne  sente  gran  duolo.    5  figlio  comette  alcum  dolo. 
6  il  servo.    9  mente  fa  questo  revolo.     16  declina. 
Var.  II.     1  vui  for  nuy. 


432 


BRUSH  [58 


51.    Vipeb  and  File. 

I.  Intro  una  serpa  in  casa  d'un  feraro 
Per  la  gran  fame,  e  riguardando  prima 
In  bocha  prexe  una  tagliente  lima, 
Vogliendo  ley  del  tuto  rosegaro. 

La  lima  alora  cominzd  parlaro  5 

E  disse:     "II  morso  mio  non  se  dilima 

Ma  tuti  i  ferri  in  farina  sublima, 

Si   ch'el   tuo   morso   non    pud   dubitaro; 

Com  el  mio  morso  vincho  ogni  metalo, 

Le  aspre  piano,  com  el  dento  mio,  10 

Le  tropo  longe  alia  misura  callo, 

E  quele  da  foraro  foro  io, 

Si  ch'el  tuo  minazare  e  grave  fallo. 

I'rido,  e  tu  pianzeray  del  morso  rio." 

Ami  el  men  forte  sempre  il  piil  possente,  15 

Ne  luy  contrari  perche  fia  perdente. 

II.  Qui  ti  consiglia  il  perfeto  maestro 
Che  sempre  debie  amar  l'uomo  valente, 
Ne   contradirgli   ponto   de  niente, 

Che  per  sua  forza  ti  pu6  far  sinestro. 

Mira  quanto  l'exempio  ti  da  dextro  5 

De  la  serpe  che  per  fame  dolente 

Roder  volea  la  lima  cum  suo  dente, 

Che  men  il  teme  che  bolza  balestro. 

Simelmente  non  contender  Dio, 

Ma  sempre  ama  luy  e  la  sua  corte,  10 

Come  justo  signor  possente  e  pio. 

E  quando  fame  ti  gieta  le  sorte 

D'ofendre   il   povereto   amico   mio, 

Lascialo  in  pace  che  e  di  te  piu  forte, 

E  ama  sempre  zaschuz  tuo  consorte;  15 

Lieto  ti  troverai  doppo  la  morte. 

MS.  II.     14  sorte.     16  lacking. 

Var.  I.     7  in  polvere.     8  Si  ch'el  tuo  dente  mal  non  mi  p6  fare. 
13  e  vano  e  frallo. 

Var.  II.     3  over  for  de.     9  tu  cosi  non. 


)9j  ESOPO  ZUCCAIUXO  433 


52.     Wolves  and  Sheep. 

I.  Per  to  moltnii  Bieure,  e  per  io  cam'. 
Da  lupi  si  tenian  le  peccorelle. 

A  lupi  molto  spiace  tal  novelle, 

Che  contra  loro  stiano  franche  e  sane. 

Tregua    com    esse    fece    una    dimane  5 

Per  inganare  quelle  misserelle, 

E  per  ostaxo  il  can  domanda  a  quelle. 

Elle  si  mosse  ale  promesse  vane 

E'l  cane  per  ostaxo  ai  lupi  dona. 

Un  altro  pigno  poy  da  lupi  prexe,  10 

Che  a  nullo  obprobrio  de  lupi  consona. 

I  lupi  ver  di  lor  mosse  contexe, 

Che  avean  roto  et  a  nulla  perdona, 

Dilacerando  lor  senza  difexe. 

Sicur  cossa  e  salvar  chi  el  pud  defendere,  15 

S'el  mancha  l'enimico  gli  pud  offendere. 

II.  Quando  tu  ay  un  perfecto  avocato 
Simelmente  procurator  Hale, 

Amico  mio,  tientelo  per  cotale, 

Che  l'altra  parte  non  ti  faza  mato. 

Non  oldi  tu,  come  te  dice  Cato,  5 

Da  secreto  consiglio  al  tuo  sodale, 

Se  Pabandoni,  tu  ne  rivi  male, 

Et  al  dissoto  cadi  al  primo  trato, 

Al   compromessa   la   setta    lupina 

Subitamente  ti  ricorre  adosso  10 

Ch'ay  posta  tua  raxon  perfecta  e  fina. 

Dice  gli  tuoy:      "Piu  aitar  non  ti  posso, 

Che  Pinstituta  e'l  codego  defina 

La  dove  lupi  fa  boehon  phi  grosso." 

Chi  dala  penitenza  s'abandona,  15 

Subito  l'enimico  adosso  sprona. 

Var.  I.     1  Per  guardia  del  monton.     4  siano.     6  le  triste  miserelle. 
13  rotto  el  patto. 

Var.  II.     2  un  tuo  fator  liale.     11  Questi  fan  tua  rason. 

27 


434  brush  [60 


53.     Man  and  Trees. 

I.  L'uomo  luprega  el  boscho  ch'  el  gli  presti 
Un  manico,  che  non  gli  val  usare 

La  sua  secure  che  non  puo  tagliare, 

Unde  convien  che  da  luy  la  rivesti. 

Coluy  consente  i  maltalenti  presti,  5 

E  l'uomo  il  boscho  cominzfi  truncare, 

Cun  la  sicure  quel  tuto  disfare 

Dentro  e  di  fuore  cum  fere  tempesti. 

"  Io    perischo,    alora   il   boscho   disse, 

Istesso  son  caxon  del  mio  periglio,  10 

Per  lo  mio  ligno  mia  vita  perisse, 

Per  lo  dom  ch'el  vilano  da  di  piglio 

A  disfarmi  quel  sua  man  si  ardisse, 

Cossl  ci  afonda  el  nimico  consiglio." 

Guardati  di  dar  favore  al  tuo  nemico,  15 

Che  com  el  tuo  medesmo  fie  mendico. 

II.  Ala  sicure  ch'el  manico  mancha, 
Dimanda  l'uomo  al  bosco  che  g"el  dia. 
Coluy  a  soy  malfari  consentia, 

E  l'uomo  luy  disfar  may  non  si  stancha. 

Cossi  coluy  che  l'enimico  afrancha,  5 

Per  gli  suoy  doni  porta  mala  via, 

Truovasi  in  scelerata  malatia 

Tosto  cadere,  dove  il  vicio  brancha. 

Dela  folia  e  del  mondo  dito  e  quivi, 

E  contra  l'enimico  alcuna  parte,  10 

Per  dar  axempio  a  color  che  son  vivi. 

Chi  al  dimonio  presta  il  suo  sarte, 

Convien  che  nel  profondo  mal  dirivi, 

Perd  che  de  mal   far  uxa  quela  arte. 

Or  rote  son  le  carte.  15 

Non  c'e  niuno  che  vero  ti  dicha, 

Se  tu  gli  servi,  et  el  ti  da  la  fieha. 

Var.  I.     1  rechiede.     4  che  gli  la.     13  con  sue  mani  ardisse. 
Var.  II.    9  De  la  folia  del.     17  te  fa  poi. 


61]  ESOPO  ZDCOARINO  435 


54.    Dog  and  Wolf. 

I.  Scontrosi  il  lupo  nel  cane  e  si  dice: 
"La  copia  di  buon  cibi  che  tu  gusti 
Politi  e  grassi  monstra  gli  tuoy  busti." 
El  can  rispuose:     "Mia  vita  felice 

Facio  di  came,  faxam  e  perdice,  5 

Per  che  i  ladri  discazo  e  salvo  i  justi." 

"Tiecho  voglio  che  mia  vita  si  frusti," 

II  lupo  si  disse,  e'l  can  a  luy  suplice. 

Vegiando  il  lupo  i  pilli  dela  gola 

Ch'eran  caduti  al  cane,  luy  dimanda:  10 

"Per  qual  caxon?"  E  il  gli  disse:     "Sola 

Per  la  morsura  mia,  ch'e  tropo  granda, 

Ligami  il  giorno."     II  lupo  tal  parole 

Disse :   "  Non  voglio  che  gola  mi  prenda," 

Liberta  non  si  vende  ben  per  oro,  15 

Quel  don  celeste  passa  ogni  texoro. 

II.  Salvando  quela  prima  alegoria 
E  la  sententia  non  bene  pro  toto, 
Convienmi  refiorir  un  altro  moto 
Com'el  doctore  mi  da  vigoria. 

Io  non  so  dir  si  ben  com'io  voria,  5 

Ben  che  l'animo  di  zo  si  dinoto, 

Ma  quanto  posso  in  me  comprendo  e  noto, 

Per  non  scriver  in  van  la  rima  mia. 

Nota  qui  ch'el  dimonio  dal  inferno 

Mostra  di  compagnarsi  a  l'uomo  justo  10 

So  per  condurlo  nel  abisso  etemo, 

Ma  quando  vede  il  col  di  pilli  frusto, 

Zoe  di  pecati,  volzesi  in  alterno, 

Ne  vuol  sentir  di  penitenza  il  gusto. 

Cosi  el  predicator,  s'io  ben  discerno,  15 

A  ti  vol  nulla  a  predicar  lo  inferno. 

MS.  II.  15-16  lacking. 

Var.  I.  3  grossi.    8  E  questo  el  lupo  al  cane  anchor  redice. 

Var.  II.  6  sia  di  eio  devoto.     7  quanto  io  so,  cio  che  conprhendo, 
noto. 


436  brush  [G2 


55.     Belly  and  Members. 

I.  I  piedi   cum  le  mane  si   lamenta 
Del  ventre  suo,  che  occioxe  vivo, 

E  disse  a  luy:      "Senza  faticha  prive 

El  guadagno  che  nostra  vita  stenta, 

Or  soffrisse  la  fame  dolenta,  5 

Che  tanto  ingordo  e  tristo  eser  solive." 

Di  dargli  da  manzar  le  man  son  schive, 

La  donde  il  corpo  sua  vita  tromenta. 

Misericordia  il  corpo   dimandava. 

La  man  avara  niente  gli  vuol  dare,  10 

La  donde  il  corpo  a  fin  pericolava. 

E  possa  quando  luy  vuolse  aiutare, 

El  corpo  non  pud  piu,  che  non  parlava, 

Unde  insieme  convien  pericolare. 

Asay  per  se  non  fe  sol  la  persona  15 

Se  non  perdoni  altrui,  a  te  perdona. 

II.  II  ventre  si  simiglia  al  fontichare, 
E  si  le  membre  agli  altri  mercadanti. 
Finch'al  fonticho  dura  esta  constanti, 
Niun  di  loro  puo  pericolare. 

Come  il  fonticho  vien  abandonare,  5 

E  che  nel  mercandar  sono  distanti, 

De  signori  diventa  tristi  fanti, 

>.~e'l  fonticho  non  gli  pud  piu  aiutare. 

Similemente  a  nuy   e  sancta  chiexa 

Fonticho  justo  dele  anime  nostre,  10 

Finche  la  oservi,  sempre  fa  difexa, 

Contra  il  nemico  com  el  quale  tu  chiostre. 

Ma  se  pur  tua  malicia  fi  represa, 

Convien  che  perdi  le  beate  chiostre. 

Verb  non  abandonar  quel  che  ti  giova,  15 

Ne  contra  il  tuo  miglior  non  pigliar  prova. 

M8.  I.     15  till'a.     II.     13-14  lacking. 

Var.  I.       5  fame  violenta.     15-Utel  per  se  non  6  sol  la  persona. 

Var.  II.     12  giostre. 


G3]  esopo  zuccarixo  437 


56.     Ape   and   Fox. 

I.  Lamentasi  la  simia  dela  lacha 
Contra  la  volpe  e  dela  soza  nadega, 
E  disse:     "La  toa  coda  molto  radega, 
Che  spazando  la  terra  ogn'or  si  stracha. 

Un  puocliolin  del  peso  che  ti  fracha  5 

A  mia  sozura  si  faria  paradega, 

Che  tanto  forte  non  parria  sylvatica." 

"Seriami  aconza  quella  che  ti  mancha, 

Disse  la  volpe,  a  mi  non  par  chi  noxa, 

La  coda  mia  mi  par  cnrta  e  legiera,  10 

Lamentomi  che  non  e  phi  gravoxa. 

Nangi  volio  che  per  la  terra  fera 

Che  faza  honore  a  tua  lacha  stizoxa, 

Ne  faci  acossa  cossi  soza  spera." 

El  tropo  sempre  par  puoco  al  avaro,  15 

E'l  puoclio  tropo  al  puover  homo  paro. 

II.  O  avaricia,  misera  consorte! 
Seneca  dice  che  qnal  pi\1  t'abraza, 
Piu  cade  in  povertade  e  piu  s'alaza. 
Quanto  concupiscendo  sta  piu  forte 

Ay  radice  d'ogni  male  sorte,  5 

Dice  San  Paulo,  a  quel  che  a  te  sissiaza. 

Salamon  dice  che  turbida  faza 

A  tua  famiglia  fai,  se  tu  la  porte. 

Adoncha  non  vogliete  farvi  volpe, 

Coprete  le  sue  carne  al  puovereto,  10 

Ne  lasciatel  perir  per  vostre  colpe. 

Idio  mando  per  nostro  gran  difecto 

In  terra  a  judicar  sue  proprie  polpe, 

Ne  avaro  vi  fu  del  proprio  aspecto, 

Per6  zaschun  di  zO  prenda  l'effecto.  15 

E  sia  ben  liberal  al  poveretto. 

MS.  I,  7;   //,  16  lacking. 

Var.  I.  1  simia  verghognosa.  4  Che  scopando  terren  te  e  pon- 
derosa.  5-6  La  cosa  che  te  e  tanto  faticosa,  Fariasse  a  mia  sociura 
adatta  e  praticha.  8  Stariiunmi  ben  <|uella  che  ti  e  nogliosa.  9  ehfl 
me  sia.  10  La  co<la  danno  che  e  curta.  11  Assai  piu  longa  havere  la 
voria.  12  terra  giorno  e  sera-  13-14  Tirarmi  dietro  questa  coda 
mia,  Che  al  sozzo  culo  tuo  la  sia  bandera. 

Var.  II.    5  Ella  e  radice.    0  ebfl  in  te  se  sacia. 


438  brush  [64 


57.     Merchant  and  Ass. 

I.  Per  la  ingordixia  del  grande  guadagno 

L'aseno  forte  il  mercadante  premc 
Cum  grave  carcho  e  bote  sieco  insieme 
Che  nel  viazo  vaga  tosto  e  stagno. 
L'aseno  alora  cum  piatoso  lagno  5 

Morte  dimanda,  perehe  vita  teme, 
Querendogli  mercede  ver  ley  gieme, 
Che   de    fatica   gli    faga   sparagno. 
L'aseno  muore  e  dela  pelle  sua 

Perforando  sen  fa  cribelli  e  ancho  10 

Fassi  tamburi  che  giama  non  mua 
La  man  sonante  de  dargli  nel  fiancho. 
Si  che  a  piu  penne  la  morte  largua, 
Che  nela  vita  e  di  soperchii  stancho. 
Guardi  da  rompre  an  chi  nuoce  sua  vita,  15 

Ch'el  non  a  possa  chi  non  la  merita. 

II.  Oldi  che  l'asinello  si  lamenta 

Che  non  pud  piu  durare  al  istintore, 

Per  che  ogni   di   porta  pena  mazore, 

Cum  piu  va  nanti  e  tutora  piu  stenta. 

Morte  dimanda  ne  piu  s'argumenta,  5 

E  quando  morte  fa  stente  pegiore. 

Simelement©   vien   el    pecatore, 

Che  in  questo  mondo  mai  non  si  contenta, 

Tutora  prega  Dio:      "Fame  morire," 

Ne  pud  portar  in  pace  la  sua  penna.  10 

E  Dio  piu  pena  gli  fai  soffrire, 

Poscia  al  inferno  l'enemico  il  mena, 

E  sostinir  convien  tanti  martire, 

Chfe  tintinar  gli  face  polpa  e  vena. 

Portate  in  pace  l'afano  del  mondo,  15 

Se  volete  goldere  ib  ben  jocundo. 

Var.  I.     4  Vol  che  nel  viagio  vada  dritto  e  stagno.     16  Per  che 
alcun  poi  non  trova  che  l'aita. 


65]  esopo  zuccarixo  439 


58.     Mai,   ami  Oxex. 

I-  II  cervo  niosso  dal  latrar  di  cani 

Isci  del  boscho  et  intro  nel  bovile. 
"Sicur  serebe  tropo  piu  tuo  stille, 
Gli  disse  i  buovi,  nei  buoschi  lontani, 
Se  ala  mia  guardia  cadi  tra  le  mani,  5 

Perir  te  convera  di  morte  ville." 
El  cervo  scoxo  tanto  stete  bumile 
Che  la  guardia  schivd  quela  dimani. 
"Niente  ay  facto,  disse  i  bovi  al  cervo, 
Per  schivar  mo  tua  vita  ma  comuna  10 

Ti  fia  di  schivar  Argo  come  il  servo." 
Argo  pasciando  i  buoi  che  dizuna 
El  cervo  vide,  e  luy  prexe  protervo, 
Eigraciando  il  don  dela  fortuna. 

No  francho  e  bando  di  possenti  vegliare  15 

Smarir  di  servi  e  di  piatoxi  aidare. 

II.  Or  vedi  il  cervo  per  la  gran  padura 

Esser  coi  bovi  nela  stalla  chiuxo, 
Et  alio  i  bovi  coperto  col  muxo 
Di  feno  per  schivarlo  da  sciagura. 
Primo  il  famiglio  schivd  per  ventura,  5 

Ma  non  ebe  si  coperto  per  tuxo, 
Che  dal  vedere  d'Argo  fosse  schuxo, 
Unde  peri  per  la  soa  cornatura. 
Cossi  l'uomo  che  nel  vicio  vive, 

E  stassi  chiuxo  neli  gran  pecati,  10 

El  prete  fuze  cum  mente  cative, 
Quanto  phi  vive  tra  gli  scelerati. 
Ma  non  bisogna  che  da  Dio  si  scive, 
Coluy  il  vide  e  cazal  tra  damnati. 
Di  star  nei  vicii  ciaschadun  se  guardi,  15 

Se  d'Argo  vuol  schivar  gli  tristi  dardi. 

Var.  I.     15-16  Temer  che  e  in  bando,  il  possente  vigliare,  Dormir 
il  servo,  l'huom  pio  suol  aitare. 
Var.  II.    11  con  voglie  cative. 


440  brush  [6Q 


59.     Jew  and  Cupbearer. 

I.  Un  Jmleo  vi  portava  un  gran  texoro, 
Temendosi  com  el  re  s'acordava. 

El  suo  siscalco  il  re  si  comandava 

Per  scorta  sua,  et  a  luy  vene  in  coro 

De  luy  robare,  ucidere  e  tor  l'oro.  5 

Intanto  le  perdice  inde  volava, 

"Queste  palexe,  il  Judeo  gli  parlava, 

Ti  fara  avanti  il  re  al  concistorio." 

Mangiava  il  re  un  giorno  una  perdice, 

El  sesalco  la  vide  e  mosse  un  rixo.  10 

Per  che  se  ride,  il  re  al  pincerna  dice. 

Coluy  per  tema  il  vero  conta  e  dixo, 

La  donde  il  re  luy  fe  metre  a  pendice, 

Per  che  dal  suo  comando  era  divixo. 

Non  esser  homicidia  per  moneta,  15 

Ch'el  tuole  aspra  ruyna  vita  leta. 

II.  Inubidenza,  cupido  e  falsitate, 
Insieme  col  dimonio  in  una  roza, 
Fece  al  pincerna  stringere  la  stroza 
Che  lascio  per  superbia  humilitate. 

Doncha  lasciate  star  le  vanitate,  5 

Che  i  ben  mondani  non  vi  sotopoza, 

Attendete  solamente  ala  goza, 

Che  Dio  vi  manda  per  sua  caritate. 

Credete  vuy  che  le  predice  dorma 

A  fare  a  Dio  le  malicie  palexe  10 

Vive  e  rostite  al  ver  non  muta  forma. 

Contra  justicia  voler  far  contexe, 

Fate  le  mente  che  non  si  disforma 

Ch'el  gran  guadagno  mostra  mate  spexe. 

Fa  che  per  robba  mat  non  rompi  fede,  15 

E  non  serai  de  Machometto  herede. 

MS.  II.  has  line  12  before  line  13  and  lacks  lines  15-16. 

Var.  I.  4  e  quel  per  suo  ristoro.  5  Pensd  de  occider  quello  e 
tuorli  l'oro.  12  II  vero  conta  con  pauroso  viso.  16  Che  aspra  ruina 
tuole  vita  lieta. 

Var.  II.    1  Inobidientia  e  avara  infideltade.     12  defese. 


67]  ESOPO  ZUCCARIXO  441 


60.     Knight  and  Peasant. 

I.  Sentenciato  il  citadino  vechio 
Accusato  per  ladro  al  BOO  signore, 
Che  in  canpo  possa  metre  un  feritore 
Contra  l'averso  di  gioventu  spechio, 

Non   trova  algun  che  voglie  esser   parechio.  5 

Intanto  conse  un  suo  laboratore 

Di  terra,  il  qual  cum  grave  furore 

Tolse  l'impresa  per  l'antico  techio. 

In  campo  vene  contra   il  cavalieri 

E  d'un  baston  gli  dedi  si  sul  brazo  10 

Che  tramortito  cade  sul  sentieri. 

Disse  il  vilam:     '"Or  ti  leva  viazo 

E  tu  medesmo  ti  fa  menzognieri, 

O  periray  dal  mio  pesente  mazo." 

La  raxon  dela  forza  non  fa  sogna,  15 

L'amico  si  conoscie  ala  bixogna. 

II.  Invidia  trista  che  prima  sagliesti 
Nel  alto  cielo  inseme  cum  superba, 
Quanta  malacia  ogi  per  te  si  serba, 
Ma  poy  che  l'alto  Dio  tu  offendisti. 

El  buon  vechieto  accusar  tu  facisti,  5 

Per  farlo  soferire  pena  acerba, 

Nela  corte  del  re  dove  sta  l'erba 

Del  falso  seme  che  prima  spandisti. 

Tu  mandasti  superba  per  te  in  campo, 

Justicia  trabucar  la  fece  al  basso,  10 

Si  che  mal  riva  chi  segue  tuo  stampo. 

El  bovolco  che  si  mostrava  lasso, 

Quando  il  dextro  se  vide  per  suo  scampo, 

El  giovene  fe  di  sua  forza  casso. 

Dir  si  solea:  tal  da,  che  non  promete;  15 

Ancora:   che  chi  induxia  non  remete. 

Tar.  I.  1  Licentia  havendo.  4  Che  dela  gioventu  sia  freno  e 
stechio.  5-6  che  dicha  me  apparechio  Per  te,  ma  gionse.  7  con  gran. 
8  vechio.  12  Hor  te  ne  va  in  viazzo.  After  line  16  is  a  Latin 
couplet  translated:  L'amico  vechio  guarda  non  lassare,  Ne  ti 
rincresca  per  lui  fadigarte. 

I  '//•.  //.  2  tumida  e  superba.  After  line  16  comes  a  Latin  couplet 
translated:  Nel  tempo  bono  e  dolce,  la  memoria  Del  male  amico 
havendo  la  victoria. 


442  brush  [68 


61.     Capon  and  Hawk. 

I.  Torna  el  signiore  lieto  dala  caza, 
Fugie  il  capone  quando  il  ve  venire. 
II  sparavero  gli  cominzft  dire: 
"Qual  tenia  ti  comove,  o  mente  paza, 

Che  del  mio  sire  la  chiareta  faza  5 

Veder  un  puocho  non  pu6  soferire. 

Vedi  quant'e  jocundo  il  suo  redire, 

Che  ogni  malinconia  da  me  discaza." 

El  capon  dixe:     "La  pena  diversa 

Di  mei  frategli  mi  comuove  a  fuga,  10 

Che  ti  fa  lieto  quanto  £  phi  dispersa, 

Cossi  lieto  e  zascadun  ch'io  mi  distruga 

Nela  maxon  tiranna,  aspera  e  perversa, 

Che  mei  e  me  alcigando  manduga." 

Non  ama  i  jnsti  caxa  de  tiranny,  15 

C'al  malvaxio  signor  piace  gli  engany. 

II.  El  capon  fugie  fuori  dele  porte 
Quando  il  signore  vien  dala  foresta, 
Dicigli   il   sparaviero:      "Que  ti   adesta 
A  fugier  quando  il  signor  vien  a  corte?" 

Dice  il  capone:     "I  temo  la  sorte  5 

Che  mey  ucide  et  a  te  face  festa." 

Corte  tiranna  may  non  fu  modesta, 

Ch'el  falso  honora  et  al  justo  da  morte. 

Coluy  che  serve  Dio  teme  il  nemico, 

E'l  pecatore  col  demonio  sta  saldo,  10 

Per  che  com  esso  participa  el  spico. 

E  cossi  il  spariviero  francho  e  baldo 

Sta  quando  sente  il  signior  ch'e  suo  amico, 

E'l  capon  fugie  e  scondesse  nel  spaldo. 

Tristi  coloro  che  tiranni  segue,  15 

Che  como  vene  e  razo  se  dislegue. 

Var.  II.     16  Che  par  poi  come  giaccio  al  sol  si  slegue. 


69]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  443 


62.     Wolf  and  Shephebd. 

I.  El  pastor  col  lupo  s'acompagna 
E  giurosse  la  fede  fermamente. 

El   lupo  ch'a  la  felle  nela  mente 

Pens6  tra  luy  la  perfida  bragagna. 

E  disse:     "II  nostro  amor  forte  niagagna  5 

Quel  can  com  el  bagliar  non  c'el  consente, 

Son  dala  febra  tutor  soffrente, 

Avanti  voglio  gire  ala  campagna; 

Se  mi  voy  far  sicuro  e  render  francho, 

Per  hostaxo  quel  cane  tu  mi  dona,  10 

O  l'amor  nostro  fie  disperso  e  mancho." 

Al  suo  voler  il  pastor  s'abandona, 

E'l  lupo,  che  de  mal  far  non  e  stancho, 

Le  pecore  ucidando  non  perdona. 

Consa  che  ti  bisogna,  tienla  cara,  15 

Piu  cha  venin  e  la  loxenga  amara. 

II.  Tristo  coluy  che  si  acompagnera 
Com  el  cativo  che  ben  far  non  pi), 
Cum  suo  vantazo  el  te  dice  no 

Et  a  sua  possa  el  te  disertaril. 

Se  averay  amico  de  te  il  partiril  5 

Per  posser  darti  piu  tosto  sul  cho. 

Cossi  il  lupo  il  pastor  consiglio 

Fin  che  le  pecorelle  divora. 

Se  col   demonio  t'acompagni  tu, 

Torati  zu  dala  perfecta  fe  10 

E  nel  pecato  caciati  pur  su. 

E  quando  benne  il  t'a  tirato  a  se, 

L'anima  tuole  quando  non  po  piu, 

Nel  inferno  la  porta  dove  se. 

Guarti  dale  loxingue  amico  si  15 

Che  salvi  l'alma  e  non  deserti  ti. 

Var.  I.     4  perfida  magagna.     .".  forte  se  lagna.     6  col  suo  latrar. 

Var.  II.  After  the  fable  is  a  Latin  couplet  translated:  Chi  gio- 
venetto  se  usa  ad  alcim  vitio,  Quando  el  se  invechia  attende  a 
quello  officio. 


444  brush  [70 


63.     Merchant  and  Wife. 

I.  El  suo  marito  absente  schozogato 

Fece  la  moglie,  e  d'essa  naque  un  figlio. 
Quel  ritornato  vi  parse  bisbiglio 
Considerando  che  non  l'a  calmato. 
La  moglie  pianamente  a  dimandato:  5 

"Come  avesti  quel  figlio?"     A  gran  conaiglio 
Quela   rispuoxe,   cum   ridente   ciglio: 
"Neve  mangiay,  e  di  zS  e  gienerato." 
Disse  il  marito:     "II  vuo  far  mercadante." 
Mendllo  nel  viagio  e  quel  vendid,  10 

Poscia  s'en  ritorno  sano  e  aitante. 
Disse  la  moglie:     "Dov'e  il  figliol  mio?" 
"Per  che  di  neve  naque,  il  sol  scotante 
A  lo  disfato,  per  la  fede  Dio." 

Consente  la  raxon  che  cossl  sia,  15 

Che  chi  ingana,  l'engano  justo  fia. 

II.  Vedi  quella  cativa  che  vergogna 

A  fato  al  suo  marito  essendo  fuori. 
Quel  ritornato  come  alegri  cuori 
Che  ben  fornito  avea  la  sua  bisogna, 
La  meretrice  di   zd  non   sogna,  5 

PortSgli  in  brazo  gli  suoy  disinori. 
Quel  stupefato  di  perduti  honori, 
A  ley  non  diedi  vilana  rampogna, 
Accidia  pregna  di  melenconia. 

Nassi  fuor  d'essa  un  malvaxio  pensiero,  10 

Che  l'uom  conduce  spesso  in  mala  via. 
Adoncha  lascia  il  perfido  sentiero, 
Ingana  e  vendi,  si  che  tuo  non  fia. 
L'aspero  peccato  per  lo  qual  si  pero. 
Chi  saviamente  sua  vergogna  menda,  15 

Ne  a  Dio  ne  al  mondo  non  e  chi'l  riprenda. 

MS.  II.  places  line  8  after  line  13,  the  error  being  indicated  by 
letters  in  margin. 

Tar.  I.  ( 1483,  the  1479  ed.  of  the  Bibliothtque  nationale  having 
lost  this  folio).  1  svergognato.  15-16  che  justo  fia  Che  chi  inganna 
altri,  egli  ingannato  sia. 


r^]  ESOPO  ZUCCARINO  445 


64.  Peasant  and  Pluto. 

I.  Crede  il  vilan  pagar  la  sua  debita, 
Dagandosi  ala  morte  vuol  morire, 
Gran  fredi  e  caldi  cominza  sofrire, 
Tempeste  e  neve  per  far  sua  finita. 

La  morte  non  consente  sua  partita,  5 

Per  far  luy  sostenir  grave  martire. 

Eccoti  un  vento  perfido  venire 

Che  gli  tuolse  de  subito   la   vita. 

El  dimonio  prexe  l'anima  sua, 

Che  ley  spectando  siecho  era  rimaxo,  10 

E  de  gir  al  inferno  molto  argua. 

E   riguardando  cascun  scolta  e  taxo, 

Poi  si  crido :    "  Porta  la  puza  tua." 

E  cun  gonelle  e  man  si  stropa  il  naxo. 

Non  e  digno   il   vilan  dela  citate,  15 

Fin  al  inferno  non  vuol  sua  amistate. 

II.  El  vilan  non  vuol  piu  viver  al  mondo, 
E  per  morire  fa  sua  vita  lenta, 

Va  per  lo  caldo  or  quando  che  piil  sventa, 

Tanto  ehe  de  sua  vita  vien  al  fondo. 

Cossi  il  soldato  quant'e  piu  jocundo  5 

Tanto  piu  nel  mal  fare  s'argumenta, 

Morte  nol  vuole  per  far  che  piu  stenta 

E  tal  bora  gli  mostra  grosso  il  brondo. 

Non   >i   conosce  quest i  topinelli 

Fin  che  nel  soldo  dura  suo  furore,  10 

E  quando  e  cassi  riman  miserelli 

Abandonati  da  ciasc-luim  signore. 

Xe'l  ospetale  vuol   recever  quelli 

Fina  nel  inferno  fuge  el  MM  /mzorc. 

Ben  che  sua  vita  mostra  bella  vita,  15 

Certo  nel   mondo   nonne  la  pid  trista. 

MS.  II.     14  last  half  of  line  lacking. 

Var.  I  (1483).  11  E  de  addurla  al  inferno.  12  Riguardando 
ciascun  di   quella  il   caso.     15  se  stuppa. 

Var.  II.  15  bella  vista.  After  the  fable  comes  a  Latin  OOUptei 
translated:  Entri  in  la  nostra  scola  chiunque  usan-  \<>l  OOD  gU  l>oni. 
c  li  altri  lasse  stare. 


446  brush  [72 


Cancionetta. 

Volume  mio  quel  poco  d'argumento 

II  qual  tu  spandi  so  che  biaxemato 

Seray  per  zaschun  lato. 

Per  li  sogieti  di  mortal  peccati 

Non  ti  curare  dil  suo  mal  talento,  5 

Che  coluy  che  non  vuol  fir  consigliato 

Si  riman  scelerato. 

E  nele  fine  vasi  tra  damnati 

Ay  doloroxi  tristi  sciagurati, 

Che  non  cognose  comme  il  mondo  attento,  10 

Per  gir  come  fa  il  vento. 

Si  sta  non  aspetando  il  piu  beato, 

Tirando  al  fondo  quel  che  maior  stato, 

E  nel  mal  fare  pur  si  stan  fichati. 

Quando  sie  condemnati,  15 

Riposserassi  poscia  nel  tremento, 
,  Se  biaxemato  fia  il  compilatore, 

Di  star  in  tal  errore. 

Perd  non  fia  scuxato  quel  che  falla, 

C'el  suo  vitio  non  calla,  20 

Che  simigliante  del  predicatore. 

Or  sta  constante  si  che  non  si  stalla, 

Di  mandar  la  tua  balla, 

Dov'e  pill  turba  di  gran  peccatore, 

Che  gli  mostra  il  terore.  25 

Che  nel  profondo  dove  non  si  balla. 
(  Dimanda  perdonanza  a  cuy  recresse 

Le  tue  parole  messe 

Disordinate  fuori  di  tua  rima, 

Ma  nondimeno  fa  ch'el  si  sublima  30 

L'efecto   al  alta   cima, 

Si  che  del  tuto  non  sio  sottomesse. 

Var.  10  che  non  vedete.  12  Aspettando  di  voi  el.  1479  ed.  at 
Bibl.  Nat'le  ends  with  line  22:  the  1483  edition  shows  no  further 
variations  of  importance. 


73]  ESOPO    ZUCCARINO  447 


Can  zone. 

Qui  si  conchude  il  fin  del  opra  mia, 
Che  si  contene  avanti  nel  principio 
Del  polito  hedifficio, 
Ch'el  buon  doctore  irii  dond  luy  stesso. 
O  examinato  in  omni  allegoria  5 

Coliendol  il  fiore  per  lo  primo  indicio, 
E  per  lo  beneficio 
II  fructo  retentivo  o  fermo  messo, 
L'un  dopo  l'altro  seguitando  apresso, 
Per  haver  doppo  il  fin  qualche  memoria.  10 

E  per  die  questa  ystoria 
Per  me  volgarizando  6  posta  in  rima, 
Cogliendo  di  sentencia  la  piu  cima, 
E   in   volgaro   tracta   dal   latino. 
Olio  nomato  Exopo  Zucharino.  15 

La  seeha  gnssia  buon  noxiglo  sconde, 
Dice  il  maestro,  doncha  providenza 
Habi  in  te  et  retinenza, 
Segondo  che  seguendo  ti  di  chiaro. 
Prima  ti  veste  de  sue  verde  fronde  20 

Che  tu  debie  honorare  la  scienza; 
La   segonda    sentenza, 
Che  dal  malvaxio  ti  sapi  guardare, 
Perd  ch'el  falso  l'arte  sa  trovare 
D'ofendre    al   justo   e   perd    ti   castica,  25 

Ancora   ti   faticha 

De  schivar  quegli  che  ruompe  sua  fede, 
Per  che  inver  de  l'uomo  n'il  mercede, 
E  guardati  dal  falso  testimonio, 
Che  pieta  teme  l'arte  del  dimonio.  30 

Figliol  mio  per  la  vana  speranza 

II  propio   tuo  may  no  abandonare, 

E  non  ti  compagnare 

A  superbo  huomo  di  te  piu  possente. 

Homo  cativo  per  anticha  usanza,  35 

Caro  figliolo,  non  l'alturiaie. 

Xe'l  scognosct'iitc  aidare. 

Al   perfido  tu   fa  simelemente, 

St-  tu  gli  servi,  il  ti  vuol  far  dolente. 


448  brush  [74 

Xe  ti  fidare  in  le  parole  blande,  40 

Ne  al  savio  in  vano  scande, 

E  godi  im  pace  quel  puocho  che  ai, 

Che  rich'e  poverta  se  lieta  l'ay. 

Ne  il  pover  humo  non  voler  contendere, 

Che  lievemente  il  ti  pu5  ben  offender e.  45 

Guardati   ancora  dala  savia   lingua, 
Che  non  t'  engani  e  vanagloria  scaza, 
D'amici  ti  percaza, 
E  non  voler  sforzar  la  tua  natura; 
Al  pizol  servi  sempre  a  voglia  pingua,  50 

Che  in  caso  de  periglio  el  ti  rifaza. 
E  fa  ch'el  non  ti  alaza 
Gravi  peccati  a  far  tra  lor  tua  cura. 
Sempre  del  rio  consiglio  habi  paura, 
E  se  sey  francho,  guarti  da  far  servo,  55 

Che  gli  e  dolor  protervo; 
E  sie  contento  del  debito  tuo. 
Se  tu  fay  cossa,  guarda  il  fine  suo. 
Non  esser  vile  figliolo  per  la  gola, 
Ne  matamente  credi  ogni  parola.  60 

Coluy  che  piu  minaza,  fa  men  fati, 
Per6  ti  prego  non  esser  di  quigli. 
E  credi  ai  buon  consigli  di  tuoy  parenti, 
E  schiva  tuoy  nemici, 

Che  la  segonda  volta  non  t'enbrati.  65 

Ne  pato  fare  a  chi  teme  i  perigli, 
Ne  in  carta  poner  igli, 
Che  temeroxi  pati  ven  felici. 
Per  ofender  mai  non  s'aquista  amici, 
E  di  pizol  caxon  gran  mal  discende;  70 

E  perd  ti  diffende 

Di  non  far  piaga  che  tu  non  voresti. 
A  ben  seguir  l'efecto  te  rivesti, 
Ne  de  l'altruy  non  ti  voler  vestire, 
Che  lievemente  poristi  per  ire.  75 

Cativo  minaza  quando  a  tempo, 
E  per  la  lingua  nasce  ben  e  male. 
Al  mal  factore  non  vale 
Di  relasciare  il  vitio  che  in  luy  regna, 
El  servixio  non  val,  se  per  tempo  80 


75]  ESOPO    ZUCCAMNO  449 

L'uopra  non  mostra  il  fructo  sieco  eguale. 

Chi   vuol   farsi   cotale, 

Quanto  el  mazor  a  luy  non  convegna, 

Isteso  abassa  e  fortuna  disdegna. 

Or  tiente  a  mente  el  beneficio  agrada,  85 

N&  la  tua  mente  vada 

A  voler  farti  quel  che  tu  non  sey, 

Ne  i  beni  mondani  creder,  che  son  rey. 

Servessi   duy   signori    inutelmente, 

Questi  castichi  tienti  nela  mente.  '.)<) 

El  malvaxio  merita  malla  vita, 
Per  invidia  perisse  chi  rapina. 
Et  in  grave  ruina 
Cade  chi  sprexia  cossa  che  gli  giova. 
Femina  l'opra  sua  mal  ve  finita,  05 

E   quel   ch'ala   bagascia   se   dechina 
Sosten   gran   disciplina. 
Cautela  di  doctrina  e  gran  sapere. 
Fassi  al  cativo  il  possente  temere, 
Gran  segureza  he  haver  chi'l  pu5  guardare,  100 

Ne'l  tuo  nemicho  aidare, 
N6  liberta  se  vende  ben  per  oro. 
Intende  figliol   mio   questo   laboro, 
E  fa  la  mente  tua  si  retentiva, 
Che  salvi  i  boni  e  li  altri  vici  schiva.  105 

Nulla  persona  e  asay  per  si  medesmo, 
E  tuto'l  mondo  par  pocho  al  avaro. 
E  non  ti  dubitaro 

Che  malle  ariva  chi  sua  vita  rompe. 
Se  schivi  el  mese,  si  prompto  al  milesmo.  110 

N6  per  moneta  homicidio  non  faro. 
Che  mal  convien  rivaro, 
Chi  la  vita  aventura  per  le  pompe. 
Ne  per  tema  raxon  non  si  corumpe. 
E  l'amico  si  prova  ala  bixogna.  1 1 5 

11  justo  non  fa  sogna 
Di  far  albergo  in  casa  de  tiranny. 
Per  che  dan  fede  a  rey  che  uxa  inp;mi. 
Chi  utel  ti  fa  tiente'l  per  caro, 
Luxenge  tene  per  venin   amaro.  120 


450  brush  [76 

Tu  ai  canzon  ben  perfecto  noxiglio, 
Sia  pur  secca  la  guscia  quanto  vole. 
Faciam   poche   parole, 
Ch'el  tropo  dir  talora  recresse. 

S'el  nome  mio  alcun  saper  volesse,  125 

Digli  che  Azo  e'l  proprio  nome  mio 
Or  vatene  con  Dio, 
E  franchamente  mostra  la  tua  arte 
E  se  tu  trovi  in  parte, 

Che  del  pronome  mio  saper  si  lagna,  130 

Risponde  il  Zucho  da  Soma  Campagna. 


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